Harry Potter and the Greater Good
by Blank402
Summary: Dumbledore and Grindelwald combined forces and carved out an empire for "the greater good". Now, Harry must enter this confusing world and decide for himself what the Greater Good truly is. AU. Grey!Harry.
1. Chapter 1

Book I

Chapter 1

A Mother's Love

"_We all know the right thing to do. The hard part is doing it."_

It was a quiet Halloween night in Godric's Hollow that found Lily and James Potter alone in their cottage. The festivities of the holiday had come to a close and their one year old son Harry had been put to sleep. The young couple sat together in their living room, the only source of light coming from the fireplace that had them transfixed like moths. The silence between them was tense and each had a look of anxiety on their face.

The silence was broken suddenly as three sharp knocks sounded at the front door. James jumped from his seat and drew his wand. Lily reached out and grabbed his wrist, looking up at him with worry in her eyes. James tried to give her a placating smile, but the muscles in his face refused to move correctly. Instead he nodded, a silent a gesture that he hoped would let her know everything would be alright. Lily slowly let go of his wrist and nodded back to him. James attempted to smile again, failed, then turned and made his way to the front door.

The entrance hall was completely dark and James had to be careful not to step on any of the toys Harry had left laying around. He crept to the door as silently as possible and kept his wand out in front of him, half-expecting the door to fly off its hinges. He pressed himself against the door and looked through the peephole. There was no one there.

"Who's there?" he called anyways, tightening his grip on his wand in case the answer was unsatisfactory.

"Elvendork," came the response and James smiled. He let out a deep breath and the tension he'd been carrying melted away. A wave of his wand unlocked the door and disabled the security charms. He opened the door and was greeted only by the cold October air. He stepped to the side and felt something move past him and into the house. Not wanting to look suspicious, he made a show of stepping out onto the front porch and extinguishing the Jack O' Lanterns Lily had decorated the outside with; all the while surreptitiously checking the neighboring cottages to make sure no one had seen anything. Satisfied, he stepped back inside and closed and locked the door. Once the lock slid into place there was a shimmering in the darkness of the entrance hall as an Invisibility Cloak slid to the floor and revealed two men.

"Moony, Wormtail!" James greeted, stepping forward and wrapping his two friends in a tight embrace. He pulled back and smiled at them. In the darkness he could barley make out their faces. "Where'd Sirius get off to?"

Remus opened his mouth to answer, but James cut him off.

"Actually, Lily will want to hear the whole story. She's waiting for us by the fire."

The two visitors, already familiar with the layout of the cottage, walked to the living room. James picked his Invisibility Cloak off the floor before following after them. The two visitors settled themselves in chairs by the fire and James sat next to his wife.

"So, how did it go?" he asked, unable to keep the excitement from his voice. "Don't tell me Sirius abandoned you. Out celebrating already, eh? That old dog, I'll have to-"

"James," Lily interrupted his excited ramblings quietly but forcefully, placing her hand on his knee. She was looking intently at Peter and Remus and as James studied his friends in the firelight he realized that they weren't laughing or smiling or even looking at him. Remus' head was bowed, his vision focused solely on the floor while Peter's eyes darted about looking anywhere but at James or Lily.

"Did something go wrong?" James asked slowly, a weight settling in his stomach.

There was a tense silence that lasted a moment before Peter had apparently had enough. With a high pitched wail he threw himself at James' feet and cried, "We're so sorry! It wasn't our fault! I promise! Please, James! It wasn't our fault!" From there on his cries became incoherent as the only sounds he produced were high-pitched, squeaky sobs.

James looked from Peter's groveling form to Remus, who finally met his eyes.

"They were waiting for us, James," he said softly.

James swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat.

"Who?"

"The MRS," Remus' response elicited a gasp from Lily. "It was a trap. They waited until we were in the house, then they surrounded the place and demanded we give ourselves up. Sirius, he went out and distracted them, he gave himself up so we could sneak away under the Cloak." As Remus told the story, his voice became strained.

James felt numb. He barely registered Peter's continuous cries coming from the floor, barely registered Lily's hand on his knee squeezing tightly. The only thing he could think about was the fact that his best friend, his brother, was dead or worse. When he finally managed to speak, his voice was lifeless.

"Get off the floor, Peter."

The crying little man shot from the floor and practically threw himself down into his chair, as if afraid of James' retribution if he didn't comply.

"We wanted to help," Peter said, a pathetic kind of pleading to his voice. "But Sirius insisted."

An odd sound ripped itself from James' throat. It was quick and loud and startled those around him. It took him a moment to realize that the sound was a laugh, loud and barking like Sirius'. The realization made him laugh more, this time in his own quiet chuckle. His two best friends and his wife watched him with varying looks of worry and fear which made him laugh even harder. He had to bury his face in his hands to smother the sound, and when he finally got all the chuckles out of his body he spoke:

"Of course he did," He practically spat the words out. "Self-righteous bastard always had to play the hero."

Remus began to laugh as well, albeit in a more subdued manner. "You're right," he added around his chuckles, his voice still strained, "I'm sure if he got to choose a way to go, this would have been it. Going down in a blaze of glory to protect his friends. He always did fancy himself a hero."

Peter joined in with a few giggles of his own, but the way his eyes nervously scanned the the room made it look like he was ready to bolt at any moment.

"You shouldn't be laughing," Lily said quietly, drawing the attention of the three males and silencing them. "Your best friend is dead, or worse he could be in Azkaban."

There was a deep sincerity in her eyes that nearly broke James' heart.

"Sirius wouldn't have wanted us to mourn him," he explained with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"He was actually quite adamant about it," Remus added with a sad smile of his own. "He made us swear a Marauder's Oath that we wouldn't cry at his funeral. Even tears of joy were forbidden."

"He also wanted us to light him on fire," Peter said. Everyone regarded him curiously and he quickly explained himself, "He wanted a Viking's funeral! Remember?"

As the memory of Sirius making them swear to burn him with his favorite possessions upon his death surfaced both James and Remus began laughing again.

"We'll have to go back on that promise," James said, wiping tears from his eyes. Even he wasn't sure if they were from mirth or sadness. "I doubt the MRS left enough of him for us to burn!"

Suddenly, the laughter died, and James realized he had gone too far.

Remus cleared his throat and said, "We should go. The MRS will probably be coming by soon to perform an investigation. They shouldn't be able to link us to the crime, but we were his only friends, so they'll suspect our involvement."

James nodded and tossed him the Invisibility Cloak.

"You can keep if for now. Just in case."

Remus nodded and he and Peter stood. Lily and James rose to meet them and the four friends shared a hug in front of the fire.

"Stay safe," Lily whispered as they broke off the embrace.

Remus smiled and said, "We'll do our best," he gave James a silent nod before he tossed the Cloak over himself and Peter and they disappeared. "We'll let ourselves out."

James followed the shuffling sound of his friends' feet and then watched as the front door opened and closed itself. A flick of his wand locked the door from afar and he was alone again with his wife. He collapsed heavily onto the couch and buried his face in his hands. Without the presence of his two best friends, the only friends he had left, he was finding it much harder not to cry. He wasn't the only one.

A sob ripped itself from his wife's throat, causing him to raise his head in surprise. Lily practically collapsed in front of him, falling to her knees and burying her head in his lap. James watched in shock as his wife cried so hard she was in danger of not only waking up their son, but the entire village.

"I'm so sorry!" she managed to say between her heaving sobs.

Gently, James rose her head from his lap and cupped his hands around her face. He stared into her brilliant, tear-filled eyes and spoke softly.

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

His words only made the situation worse, as they seemed to make Lily angry with him.

"How can you say that? You can't make this go away with jokes and laughter or sweet words, James. Your friend, our friend, is dead or worse and it's all my fault! I asked him to do this!"

She was shouting now, and James wished she would wake up Harry so he could have an excuse to get away from her. A part of him did blame her for the loss of his friend, but he hated that part of himself. He squashed it down with all his might and leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Sirius had a hero complex," he explained, as much to himself as to her, "He would have done something like this whether you had asked him to or not."

Lily didn't have a response to this, but it seemed she didn't want to admit he was right. She seemed set on blaming herself for what had happened. She picked herself off the floor and turned away from him, wrapping her arms around herself and staring into the fire. James stood and put his arms around her waist from behind. They stood together like that for several minutes, the light from the fireplace dancing across their skin.

"I can't stop thinking about them." Lily finally said when her tears had stopped.

"Who?"

"Petunia and her family," She nearly choked on the words. "She has a son now, just a bit older than Harry. Did I ever tell you that?"

"You did."

"That's why..." she paused to swallow the lump in her throat, "That's why she wanted to flee from the country. She wanted a better world to raise her son. Now, her family will probably be split apart and Sirius is..."

The tears came again, this time quietly. James continued to hold her, suddenly feeling selfish for how he had been feeling just a few minutes ago. He had lost his best friend but because of the botched mission Lily's only living realities would have their lives ruined, and they didn't have very good lives to begin with. She shifted in his arms until they were standing face to face. She looked up at him earnestly, her eyes bloodshot.

"Ever since I talked to Petunia, I can't help but keep thinking. Should we be trying to do the same thing?"

"To get out of the country?" he had never considered the idea before, even though he had helped multiple people do it in the past.

"This place is just...it's filled with so much _suffering,_" the raw emotion in her voice sent a chill down his spine, "And I don't want to raise my son here. I don't know if I _can _raise my son here."

* * *

Lily couldn't sleep. Today had been her son's eighth birthday and it had ended terribly. The problem had started months before when James, against her wishes, had taken their son for a ride on his old broomstick. Harry had fallen in love with flying from the moment he and his father had kicked off the ground and for the next couple of months leading up to his birthday he had begged them to buy him a broom of his own.

Lily was opposed to the idea and James halfheartedly supported her decision. She allowed Harry to go on flights with his father, but made it quite obvious that he wouldn't be given a broom of his own anytime soon. He had assumed that this was a joke, or that his parents were trying to make sure he would be surprised on his birthday when he actually got a new broom.

He did end up surprised when he opened his presents that night because there was no broom amongst them. When Lily had once again made it clear that she didn't think he was ready for his own broom, the eight year old threw a tantrum that ended with his birthday party being called off early and he was sent up to his room without eating cake.

Being a mother wasn't easy. This was readily apparent to Lily as she sat alone in the dining room, staring bitterly at the chocolate cake she had baked for her son which still had eight burning candles in it. She heaved a depressed sigh and blew the candles out, extinguishing the only source of light in the dining room. The darkness only lasted a few seconds before the candles relighted.

With another sigh, Lily pushed the cake away from herself and stood from the dining room table. She walked out of the dining room and made her way up the stairs intent on going back to bed. As she passed by Harry's room she noticed that his door was slightly open and she stopped in front of it. She debated internally with herself for a moment before deciding that it wouldn't hurt to check on him. She quietly pushed the door open and poked her head in. What she saw made her heart sink. Harry's bed was empty.

She threw his door open the rest of the way and frantically began searching his room. She searched under his bed, in his closet, in his trunk; all the while shouting his name hoping he would pop up and reveal that he was just pulling a silly prank on her.

"Lily."

She spun around quickly and saw James standing in Harry's doorway. His hair was ruffled and he had to squint at her because he wasn't wearing his glasses.

"What are you doing?" he asked groggily.

"Harry's gone!" she cried. She fell to her knees and buried her face in her hands as the tears finally came.

James rushed to her side and grabbed her by the shoulders. "What do you mean he's gone?" he asked urgently, "Where's he gone to?"

"He's just...gone!" she screamed, "I wanted to check on him before I went to bed, and he wasn't in his room! I just came from downstairs, so he can't be there! Oh god, James, what's happened to him?"

"You...you're overreacting," James replied quietly, his voice hollow, "I'm sure he's just in the bathroom or something. Come on."

He stood up and pulled her to her feet. He pulled her out of her son's room and together they searched the rest of the house. They searched every room and closet but still their son was nowhere to be found.

After having searched the entire house and finding no trace of Harry, they stood together in the living room. Lily had stopped crying, but her body shook horribly as her mind focused on all the horrible things that could be happening to her son.

"The important thing is to not panic," James said, running a shaking hand through his hair, "Harry's probably mad about what happened at this birthday party. He probably just ran away to get back at us."

Lily nodded slowly, but her mind kept replaying the worst case scenario: her son badly hurt or worse.

"I'll get on my broom and look around the village," James continued, "He couldn't have gotten far. You should get on the floo with Bathilda. See if she's seen anything. Okay?"

Lily just nodded again. James grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. When she did, he gave her his best Gryffindor grin, full of confidence and courage.

"Everything's going to be all right."

When he looked at her like that she couldn't help but believe him and the shaking of her body lessened a bit. She tried to smile back at him, but it looked more like a pained grimace. James accepted it though, and drew her in for a brief hug. Once they parted from the embrace, James made for his broom closet while Lily turned to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of floo powder, all the while James' voice repeated in her head "Everything's going to be all right".

Just as she was about to hurl the powder into the fireplace, there was a knock at the front door. She turned to James who had just pulled his broom out of the closet. They both dropped what they had been doing and rushed to the front door, James with his wand out and Lily wishing she hadn't left her's in her bedroom. James unlocked the door and threw it open without pause and the sight of the person standing on their welcome mat took Lily's breath away.

It was Albus Dumbledore dressed in a blue-with-white-polka-dots nightgown. James quickly bowed to the man and Lily hastily followed his example.

"Lord Dumbledore, sir," James greeted as he rose from his bow, "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

The old man didn't respond. His blue eyes trailed down and focused on James' wand, which he still held at his side. James quickly stuffed his wand in the waistband of his pants and offered an apologetic smile.

"Er-sorry, sir. Can't be too careful these days...you know?"

Dumbledore regarded the nervous couple with a silent stare for a moment. Lily's heart was racing as she waited for the man to speak. What was he doing here? Did he know something about Harry? Had he found out about what they had done in the past and was coming to deal with them directly? All these questions raced through her head during that silent moment. Finally, Dumbledore smiled at them.

"Of course. Constant vigilance, as an old friend would say," Lily had to hold back sarcastic laughter at that, as if Alastor Moody was any friend of Dumbledore's, "The reason I've come to our lovely home at this horrid hour is because I've happened across something I think belongs to you."

He stepped aside and revealed Harry to be standing behind him. The boy had his head hung and his hands stuffed into the pockets of his pajamas. Lily rushed forward, knelt down and wrapped her son in a tight embrace. She pulled back from the hug and held him at arms length. His vision was still focused on the ground so she lifted his head up and forced him to look at her.

"What were you thinking?" she admonished with a strained voice. "Your father and I were so worried about you."

"Sorry, mum." he said, not sounding at all like he meant it.

Before Lily could scold him, Dumbledore spoke, "I'm afraid it's not all Harry's fault," he said, "It seems he was quite angry with you after an argument and he performed a bit of accidental magic and ended up in my backyard."

"I didn't mean to mum, I swear!"

Lily barely heard him. Her mind was still stuck on the words accidental magic. Her son had been so angry with her that he had performed accidental magic and transported himself to somewhere he would have rather been. Her fear for her son's well being had disappeared but now it was replaced with an even stronger fear, one that made her sick to her stomach. She was afraid that her son hated her, that he didn't love her, that he loved Dumbledore more than he loved her. Accidental magic took incredibly strong emotions, this was more than him just being angry at her for not getting him a broom.

James strode forward to shake Dumbledore's hand.

"Thank you so much, sir," he said sincerely, "I-er-I hope this never happens again."

Dumbledore chuckled, "As do I. Though I must admit I do enjoy Harry's company."

He reached down and ruffled the boys hair with a grandfatherly smile. Harry smiled back with complete adoration and Lily felt her heart skip a beat.

"I bid you farewell, Potter family," Dumbledore said with a grand sweeping gesture that made Harry giggle, "Hopefully, we can all get together soon at a much more acceptable hour." He offered Harry a wink before turning and Disapparating with a pop.

Lily still knelt on the ground before Harry, and when the boy turned away from the spot where Dumbledore had been standing she could see fear in his eyes.

"Are you mad at me, mum?"

"No, I...I'm just glad you're safe." she answered truthfully. She pulled him into another hug and this time he hugged her back, though she couldn't help but think he was just happy she wasn't punishing him.

"Don't think you're getting off easy," James said, though he tousled Harry's hair with a smile on his face, "Your mother and I just need to time to think of a suitable punishment."

Harry jerked away from Lily's hug and looked up at his father with a mortified look on his face. When he saw James' smile his expression eased, but there was still a hint of worry in his eyes. He turned again to Lily with that pleading look in his eyes.

"We'll talk in the morning," she said, "For now you need to sleep."

Harry opened his mouth to protest but Lily let him know that she wasn't in the mood with a sharp look. With a defeated sigh, the boy marched into the house and up the stairs towards his room. As Lily watched him, she couldn't help but worry if he would stay in his room for the rest of the night.

"Come on," James said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, "We should get to bed too."

Lily agreed and together the couple followed their son up the stairs, watched him get into bed, and then made their way to their own room. Once there, James sat on the edge of their bed and Lily sat next to him. She placed her head on his shoulder and let out a sigh.

"I'm surprised you let him go to bed without punishment." James said.

Punishing Harry had been the farthest thing from her mind. Last time she had punished him he had Apparated to Dumbledore's house. She didn't want that to happen again.

"I can't punish him. It wasn't his fault."

"It certainly wasn't your fault. Accidental magic happens. There was nothing-"

He was cut off as Lily abruptly stood.

"Accidental magic doesn't just happen, James!" she hissed, wanting to yell but knowing that Harry would hear if she did, "Accidental magic only happens when a child is under extreme emotional duress! Harry didn't just _happen_ to Apparate himself to Dumbledore's house! He did it because he was so angry with me, hated me so much that he subconsciously transported himself somewhere he would have rather been!"

James stared at her in shock, "Harry doesn't hate you."

"Of course he does, James, I'm a terrible mother. He would rather be with Dumbledore. He loves Dumbledore more than he loves me!"

James stood up from the edge of the bed and put his hands on his wife's shoulders. "I know you're upset about what happened. But you're overreacting."

Lily pushed him away and he stumbled and fell back onto the bed, "Did you see the way Harry looked at Dumbledore? He adores him. He's never looked at me that way!"

"Lily, please. You're overre-"

"Don't tell me I'm overreacting!" she screamed. She clamped her hand over her mouth when she realized what she had done, "This is your fault," She continued in a hiss, "I told you couldn't raise my son here, but you wouldn't listen!"

"You think it would be better if we had fled the country?" James retaliated, feeling his anger welling up, "We would have gotten caught. We would have been sent to Azkaban like Sirius and Harry would've be an orphan. Probably would've gotten adopted by some pure-blood scum and raised to be a muggle hating loon!"

Lily laughed derisively, "You're so afraid of what could have happened that you're ignoring what's already happening. Harry adores Dumbledore, he'll believe anything the man says. He's already being raised to be a muggle hater. A faithful servant to the Greater Good!"

James stared at Lily for a long moment, his jaw clenching and unclenching, "I can't deal with you when you're like this."

He stood up and gathered his pillow and stalked passed her without another word.

"Just keep running away from the truth, coward!" she mocked.

James stopped at the door and turned to face her. She could clearly see that her insult had stuck him hard. If there was one thing James Potter didn't tolerate it was being called a coward. He didn't retaliate as she had expected. He simply turned away from her again and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Alone, Lily began to feel the first inklings of regret bubbling up inside of her. She had lashed out at James just because he was there and she knew she shouldn't have. However, her regret was quickly drowned out by the anger and hurt she was still feeling. She knew things would be different in the morning but for now she had to deal with her rage by herself. Without James to lash out at, she threw herself into her bed, buried her face in her pillow and hoped it would be enough to muffle her cries.

**

* * *

**

Lily smiled affectionately as she watched her son blow out the ten candles on the birthday cake she had baked for him. They were gathered in the backyard of their cottage on a fair July day. It was Harry's biggest party ever. Both James and Lily were there of course, along with Remus and Peter. Bathilda Bagshot, the kind old woman who lived down the block, was there as well as a few other neighbors who Lily wasn't too familiar with but she was glad they were there all the same.

Lily was happy to note that Dumbledore had politely declined the invitation Harry had forced her to send, but he had unexpectedly sent someone else in his stead: the Longbottom Family. Frank, Alice and their son Neville had showed up for the party and simply explained that Dumbledore had forwarded them his invitation. Lily couldn't help but be wary of Frank and Alice as she knew they were both high ranking members in the Empire, but Harry had finally found a new friend in their boy Neville, who had just had a birthday the day before, and she couldn't help but feel happy at that since Harry had no friends his own age.

The plump, round-faced boy sat next to Harry with a look of excitement on his face and Lily couldn't help but wonder if he had any other friends his own age. His parents stood off to the side, stoically watching the going-ons of the party looking more like sentries than guests.

After finally blowing out the candles of his birthday cake which insisted on staying lit (a prank his father never got tired of) Harry turned to his mother with a huge smile on his face.

"Time for presents!"

Lily crossed her arms in faux indignation, "Oh, so I guess your presents are more important than the cake I slaved over?"

Harry rolled his eyes and giggled, "Of course they are, mum."

"You heard the boy," James said with a grin. He strode forward with a small, square package and placed it in front of Harry with a wink. "You get to open mine first."

Harry held the package with a look of pure joy on his face. Just as he was about to tear through the red and gold wrapping paper a loud screech cut through the anticipated silence and distracted him. The entire party turned their eyes to the sky to see a group of six owls flying towards the Potter's backyard. Between them the six birds carried a long, thin package.

Lily watched in confusion as the six owls swooped towards Harry and released their package. The package landed in front of Harry, right where he had pushed his cake. The impact sent bits of frosting flying and the entire party got splattered.

His bewildered face flecked with chocolate frosting, Harry reached out and grabbed the letter attached to the package. He opened the envelope and read the letter out loud to the frosting-covered party.

"Dear Harry. I apologize for not being able to make your party. Running an empire keeps me quite busy, you know," With mounting dread, Lily realized who the present was from. Harry read on with increased enthusiasm, "I hope my present arrives on time. I was never much for flying myself, but I hear you've got quite a knack for it. However, remember to not fly too close to the sun. Sincerely yours, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."

Harry tossed the letter aside and gazed upon the long thin package with the utmost want. He was practically salivating. He tore into the wrapping paper and opened the long, thin box underneath it. What he saw inside made him gasp.

Lily didn't need to look to see what Dumbledore had gotten her son. The rest of the party crowded around Harry and got a look at what was in the box themselves. What they saw inside produced varying looks of shock.

"It's a Nimbus!" Neville exclaimed.

"A Nimbus Two-Thousand." Harry corrected breathlessly.

"These aren't supposed to hit the shelves for another year." James added, his eyes wide.

Harry reached into the box and gently lifted the broomstick out. He held it before him like it was a sacred object, and the look on his face said he believed it was. He turned away from the object only to look towards his mother, who was watching him with a barely disguised look of disgust on her face.

"Can I ride it, mum. Please!"

Lily wanted to say no. She wanted to take the broomstick away from him and break it in half. She wanted to light it on fire and bury the ashes. But she couldn't do any of those things. If she denied him the broom it would just drive him further away from her. Further towards Dumbledore.

"Okay. Just don't go too-"

Harry didn't wait to hear what else she had to say. He was already in the air on his new broom performing a variety of tricks he had learned from his father. The party looked up and watched him with awe.

"He's good." Peter said as Harry performed a perfect figure eight.

"He's great." Remus amended as Harry flew in a tight corkscrew.

"He's the best," James said with adoration in his voice, "He's going to be the best seeker in Hogwarts' history. Mark my words."

Lily loudly cleared her throat and all three men turned to face her. James gave her a grin, but when she didn't return it he frowned.

"There's no way you can blame me for this."

He was right. That didn't mean she had to be happy.

"You could at least show some anger at the fact that Dumbledore went behind our backs and bought our son a broom instead of drooling over it like a school boy."

"I'm very angry," James said, putting his hands on his hips in an imitation of his wife, "But, we did agree to get Harry a broom when he turned eleven so-"

"We agreed to get him a broom when he turned twelve. And you're completely missing the point."

"I get the point. But what can we do? You're not going to take the broom away from him, are you?"

Lily sighed, "No, of course not."

She cast her gaze skyward just in time to catch her son perform a loop-de-loop that made her protective maternal instincts go crazy.

Seeing his wife so distraught, James quickly tried to think of a way to distract her, "Didn't you have something important you wanted to ask Moony?"

It was true, she had mentioned she'd wanted to talk to Remus about something, and now was as good a time as any since the party had taken a pause while Harry enjoyed his new gift.

Lily turned away from Harry's high flying antics and focused her gaze on Remus, "He's right, Remus, I did have something I wanted to ask you. If you don't mind, of course."

Remus seemed confused by the sudden focus on him, but he smiled anyway. "Of course not," he said congenially, "What is it?"

"Not here. It'd be better if we talked in private."

Remus turned to James, who just shrugged. "Okay." he said slowly.

Lily smiled at him. She led him out of the backyard and back into the house. They settled down at the kitchen table, "First of all, how's your job at the Ministry?" she asked with a smile.

"Alright. There's some new legislation we're trying to push through about muggle werewolves and..." He trailed off as he noticed Lily didn't seem interested, "But you don't really care do you?"

She offered him an apologetic smile, "I do care, it's just I think you could be putting your talents to better use," Remus raised an eyebrow in curiosity but allowed her to continue, "Not that I don't think you're work is important. But I know you've always been interested in teaching, and the Defense post at Hogwarts just opened up."

"And you think I should take it?" Remus asked.

He didn't seem offended, but Lily imagined he couldn't be happy with her trying to intervene in his life.

"I'm not trying to tell you what to do," she said, trying to assure herself as much as him, "I just think it could be a good job for you is all."

Remus nodded thoughtfully, "I had been thinking about it, of course. But I get the feeling you're not just looking out for my interests here."

Lily looked down, ashamed of herself for having to ask this of him, "It's because of Harry. He's going to Hogwarts next year, and…I would feel much better if I knew you were there to look after him."

He obviously hadn't expected her to say that, "Hogwarts is the safest place on earth. Headmaster Riddle would never-"

"Headmaster Riddle used to be the top enforcer of the Muggle Regulatory Squad," Lily interrupted hotly, "I don't think I need to remind you of the things he was responsible for in his days."

He winced and shook his head.

"Please," she begged, "I need you to do this for me. For Harry."

Remus' expression was placid, but Lily knew that an internal war was brewing beneath the surface. She knew about his condition, and how afraid he was to be around anyone else, especially children.

She remembered how tentative he had been when he first held Harry.

He ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, "If you're really that worried about Harry…"

"I am."

"Then I guess I've got no choice," he said with a smile, "I certainly wouldn't want you worrying all the while Harry's at Hogwarts. James would never let me hear the end of it."

"Thank you so much," she said with utmost sincerity. She reached across the table and grabbed his hands, "You're a great man, Remus Lupin."

He smiled down at her for a second before loud cheers from the backyard caught his attention, "Guess we better get back to the party."

They stood together and walked back outside. They found James and Peter with the rest of the party-goers staring up at the sky watching Harry fly around on his broom. When she stood by his side, James wrapped his arm around her without taking his eyes off his son.

"I know you're still mad," he said, "But you have to admit, our son is very talented. He's got a bright future ahead of him."

She had never been one for flying, but even she could appreciate her son's talents. He had been interested in Qudditch since he was old enough to understand it and had loved flying since he first flew with his father.

"I know," she said softly.

"What did Remus say?" he asked, pulling his eyes away from his son.

"He said yes."

"You don't sound very happy about that."

Now she pulled her eyes from the sky to look at him, "I just can't help but think of what happened the last time I asked one of our friends for help."

James frowned, "How long are you going to blame yourself for that?"

She cast her eyes to the ground. James pulled her close., "It wasn't your fault," He said, not for the first time and probably not the last. He lifted her face up until their eyes met. He grinned and she couldn't help but grin in return, "Plus, what's the worse that can happen to Remus at Hogwarts?"

**

* * *

**

Lily lay in bed wide awake. It was early on a summer morning, and she knew it was going to be a special day. The post would be arriving soon, and with it Harry's Hogwarts letter. She was excited for her son, of course, but she was also deeply saddened. It seemed like time had been passing by too fast. It felt to her like just yesterday Harry had been learning his first words and now he was beginning the part of his life where he would no longer need her. She couldn't help but think of this every time she saw him, and every time it made her want to burst into tears. James had made fun of her for this.

Just as Lily had expected, a pitter patter of excited feet came rushing down the hall. The sound stopped at the door to her bedroom and Harry exploded into the room shouting.

"Mum! Dad! I got my Hogwarts letter!"

He then ran and jumped into bed with them.

Lily made a good show of pretending she had just woken up while James, who really had just woken up, lifted his head from his pillow in an alarmed fashion. When he saw it was just Harry he laid his head back down.

"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" Harry shouted as he bounced on the bed. James yawned and pushed himself up on his elbows.

"Got a bit of important news, did you?" he asked groggily.

"My Hogwarts letter!" Harry exclaimed, shoving the sealed envelope in his father's face.

"Well, open it up and read it!" Lily said with an encouraging smile.

With shaking hands, Harry split the wax seal on the envelope and pulled out the folded parchment within. He read the letter to his parents and then turned to them with an expectant smile. Lily couldn't help herself; her eyes were beginning to water.

"What's the matter, mum?"

"I'm just so proud of you!" she said and wrapped him in a tight hug.

"Not that we thought you wouldn't get accepted." James said, giving his son a pat on his back.

After Harry managed to pry himself from Lily's hug, he bounded off the bed and pulled the comforter off his parents.

"Come on! We have to go to Diagon Alley!"

"I don't know, son," James said, "It might be a bit too early. I don't think Diagon Alley will be open until noon."

With the look on Harry's face, James might as well have said that Hogwarts itself was going to be closed. It wasn't until James started laughing that Harry realized he hadn't been serious.

"Very funny," he said, sticking his tongue out. "Now, hurry up and get dressed."

With that said he sped out of the room leaving Lily and James to share an amused looked. The two of them got out of bed and got dressed, though they took a more time than was absolutely necessary. When they finally got downstairs they found their son impatiently bobbing on his toes in front of the fireplace.

"Took you long enough." he said sourly.

Lily and James simply shared a smile. James was first through the fireplace, and Harry went second, Lily went last and when she emerged from the fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron she was instantly meet by a muggle man, dressed in a ratty vest and an equally ratty pair of pants. His body was skinny, almost to the point of looking unhealthy, and what little hair he had left on his head was greasy and stuck to his scalp. He bowed deeply to her family and offered a yellowed smile.

"Greetings and welcome to the Leaky Cauldron. Can I be of service to you this day?"

"No, that won't be necessary," Lily said instantly. She quickly reached into her pocket and pulled out a silver sickle, "Here, thank you for your offer."

The muggle slave pushed her hand away, though she noticed the gleam in his eye at the sight of the coin.

"No thank you, ma'am."

"I insist," she said, forcibly depositing the coin into his calloused hands.

"If you insist," the muggle relented.

He flashed a grateful smile, thanked her, bowed and shuffled away to help the tavern's other customers. Noticing the distraught look on her face, James wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"There's nothing else you can do for him." he whispered.

Lily nodded and they made their way to the back of the tavern with Harry excitedly leading the way. The encounter with the muggle slave had had no effect on him. The Leaky Cauldron gave way to the magnificent golden arches which lead to Diagon Alley and Harry took off before Lily had a chance to rein him in. He had been to Diagon Alley before, but now with his Hogwarts letter in hand he was overwhelmed with all the choices. However, it didn't take him long to decide on his first purchase. He came to stop outside of Ollivander's Wand Shop.

"I'll head up to Gringotts to withdraw some gold," James told Lily. He patted his son on the head and said, "Make sure you pick a good one!"

Lily grabbed Harry's hand and led him into the wand shop. It was just as she remembered it; small, dark, a little cold, and with a slightly musty smell. Old man Ollivander came shuffling from behind a shelf filled with boxes of wands. Lily strode forward to introduce herself, but was surprised as Mr. Ollivander not only remembered her, but the exact wand he had sold her (10 1/4" Willow, Unicorn tail, swishy and good for Charms work). She introduced him to Harry, and after looking the boy over with an appraising look, the wand maker took out a magical measuring tape and set it to work on him. Once the measuring tape was done, Ollivander handed Harry a wand and Harry excitedly waved it around with no results. The process continued for some time, Harry waving a wand and Mr. Ollivader quickly snatching it away from him when it produced no results. Before long, Lily could see the excitement originally present on Harry's face give way to frustration as the pile of failed wands grew higher.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," she said with a reassuring smile, "It took mummy a long time to find the right wand too."

Though it was true, it hadn't taken nearly as long as it was taking Harry. Harry still hadn't found a wand when James returned from Gringotts and he too was surprised to find Harry still trying out wands. Even the usually placid Mr. Ollivander seemed surprised.

Finally, Harry grabbed a wand and his face lit up as it shot out gold sparks.

"Eleven inches, holly with a phoenix tail feather," Mr. Ollivander murmured as Harry excitedly waved his wand around and caused more sparks to shoot out, "Interesting. Very interesting."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked absently as he continued to wave his wand and shoot out sparks.

"The Phoenix whose feather that wand contains only gave up one other feather," Ollivander said, "And that feather went into the wand that belongs to one Thomas Riddle, Jr. Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Harry stopped swishing his wand about and turned to Mr. Ollivander, "Really?"

The old man smiled and nodded, "Indeed. I remember every wand I've ever sold."

Harry turned to his parents, beaming, "Isn't that cool? I've got the same wand core as a really powerful wizard!"

"Of course, dear," Lily said, but inside she was worried. The idea of her son having anything in common with that monster Riddle made her sick to her stomach. She turned to James who merely shrugged.

They paid the price of seven galleons for the wand and Harry dragged them out of Ollivander's shop and to Flourish and Blotts. From there, they made short work of the rest of his school supplies; buying his books and then his potion ingredients and his cauldron, and then a telescope. It was as they were making their way to Madame Malkin's Robes For All Occasions that they encountered a problem.

A mob of witches and wizards had gathered around something Lily couldn't see. They were shouting and cursing and making rude gestures at whatever it was, but Lily was content to walk along and leave them to their devices. It wasn't until she was close enough to understand what the mob was saying that she stopped.

"Don't you muggles know you're not supposed to be here?"

"Our daughter's a witch; we have every right to be here!"

The shout made Lily's blood run cold and drug up old memories she'd rather had stayed buried. Without thinking her actions through, she left James and Harry and fought her way through the mob until she arrived in the center, where a muggle man bravely shielded his wife and daughter from the mob's insults. She placed herself between the muggles and the mob.

"These people have every right to be here!" she shouted.

"If she's a witch, then let's see her do some magic!" shouted a man at the head of the mob. The rest of the he mob shouted its agreement.

"Of course she can't do magic yet," the muggle man responded, "But I've got this letter that proves she was accepted into that school!" He pulled a Hogwarts letter out of his pocket and showed it to the mob.

The man from the mob snatched the letter from the muggle and read over it. "It's a forgery!" he shouted, and the mob once again began yelling and cursing.

Lily grabbed the letter from the man and read over it herself. It was a genuine Hogwarts letter.

"This is not a forgery!" she shouted, "Now, I suggest you let these people continue on with their day or I'll alert the authorities."

The mob slowly began to disperse, but a few diehards remained, glaring daggers at her. James and Harry showed up to at her side.

"You heard the lady!" James said. "Bugger off or there'll be trouble."

He not so subtly drew his wand. The remaining members of the mob wandered off, though not without giving Lily another dirty look or muttering something very unkind.

Once they were gone, Lily turned and handed the Hogwarts letter to the muggle man. He was thin, as most muggles were, and short. His skin was pale and he had a full head of thick brown hair. His face was sharp, almost gaunt and he had a pair of well worn glasses perched over his brown eyes.

"Thank you so much," he said, shaking her hand, "I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't came along."

"Happy to help," Lily said with a smile, "I'm a muggleborn, so I know what you're going through. I'm Lily Potter, and this is my husband James and my son Harry."

James shook hands with the muggle man, but Harry had his gaze focused on the ground.

"I'm Thomas Granger. And this is my wife Jean and our daughter Hermione." He pointed first to the woman standing behind him, who strode forward to gratefully shook Lily's hand. She was healthier looking than her husband. She had black hair that was cropped short, almost haphazardly so, and pearly white teeth that belied the general disheveled appearance both she and her husband had.

His daughter stepped forward cautiously. Her hair was thick and brown just like her father's. She smiled at Lily and exposed two front teeth which were just a bit too large, and Lily had a feeling the smile was forced. Still, she took the girls hand with a friendly smile.

"It's nice to meet you, Hermione. I promise not all wizards are as bad as that."

"If you say so, ma'am." Hermione replied politely. She stepped back behind her father and received an admonishing look from her mother.

Lily turned her smile back to Thomas. "Do you need any help?" she asked, "With finding school supplies, I mean. We could show you around the alley and make sure there are no more incidents, and we have more gold than we need, so if you needed some help affording things…"

Thomas shared a look with his wife, and Lily could tell what they were thinking. They didn't like charity, but they knew they needed it. She knew the Ministry issued stipends to the parents of muggleborn witches and wizards, and she also knew how meager that stipend was.

After communicating silently with his wife, Thomas turned to Lily, "That would be great." he said.

So, for the rest of the day, Lily and her family helped the Granger family buy Hogwarts supplies. They backtracked to Flourish and Blotts to get a Hermione her books, and then to the potions supply shop. They made another long trip to Ollivander's so Hermione could get her wand and then went to Madame Malkin's so both kids could get fitted for their uniforms.

Lily was disappointed to note that Harry kept quiet once the Granger's joined up with them. She had been hoping he and Hermione would strike up a conversation. She assumed that Harry was just being shy, or maybe he was upset that they had to go to all the same shops again with the Grangers. It didn't matter, though, as it seemed Hermione didn't want to talk anymore than Harry did.

After Harry and Hermione had gotten fitted for their robes, Lily offered to treat the Granger's to dinner. Thomas turned down her offer with a firm shake of his head.

"We'd love to really, but we've got to get back to work." He told her grimly.

Understanding, Lily and her family walked them back up to the Leaky Cauldron and watched them take a muggle cab back to their home. Then, her family flooed back to Godric's Hollow, first her, then Harry and finally James came through levitating all of Harry's school supplies with him.

"I'll take these up to your room." he said and headed up the stairs with Harry's school things floating along behind him. Harry stayed down stairs with Lily.

"Mum, why did we have to help those muggles?" he asked, and she instantly realized what had been bothering him after they had met the Grangers. She did her best not to panic, knowing that she had to handle his question very carefully.

Thinking quickly so Harry wouldn't notice how much his question had bothered her, she answered by asking a question of her own.

"Why wouldn't we help them?" she asked with a sweet smile.

Harry gave her a look that told her he thought the answer was obvious, and instantly she was dreading his response.

"Because we're wizards and they're muggles, we're better than them."

She had been expecting something like that, but it did little to reduce the impact. Hearing those words come out of his mouth felt like something icy had wound itself around her stomach. She reacted without thinking, her hand flew through the air and she slapped her son across the face.

He looked up at her in disbelief, his eyes watering and his glasses knocked slightly askew. He held his hand up to his face where a red mark the size of his mother's hand had blossomed. He worked his mouth up and down, but no words came out.

Lily couldn't believe she'd done it, and she was barely able to stop herself from breaking down and apologizing to him. She hadn't wanted to hit him, but now that she had there was no going back, and perhaps it was better that she had hit him.

"Go to your room." she ordered, her voice much more shaky than she wanted it to be.

"Bu-but, mum-"

"Go to your room, Harry!"

He quickly ran past her and up the stairs. She collapsed onto the sofa and buried her face in her hands. James came running down the stairs.

"Harry just ran into his room crying."

She told him what Harry had said and what she had done; somewhere in the middle of her explanation she began crying in earnest.

"I didn't mean to," she explained, "But after seeing the way those poor muggles were treated in Diagon Alley, and to have my son showing the same attitude. I just got so angry and before I knew it I had hit him!"

James had no reassuring words or gestures for her.

"I'm a terrible mother!" she moaned.

"It's...It's not your fault." James said, but he didn't sound very convincing.

"It never should have come to this! I was supposed to raise him right. I was supposed to make sure he grew up to be a good person. Instead, he's a...a muggle hater!"

"It's not your fault."

"I'm a terrible mother!"

**

* * *

**

"He's going to be fine." James reassured Lily as they stood on platform Nine and Three-Quarters and watched the scarlet Hogwarts Express pull out of the station.

"But what if he's not?" Lily asked with tears in her eyes, "What if he can't make any friends? Or worse, he gets picked on? Or if he gets homesick, or-"

"None of that's going to happen," James said. He wrapped his arm around her waist and turned her around. Together, they walked out to the muggle area of Kings Cross, "Harry's a great kid and he'll have no trouble making friends, and he'll be so busy having fun that he'll probably never want to leave."

"You don't know that." Lily accused. They had arrived at the parking lot and found their car. It was a sleek black 'muscle' car that Lily hated, but Harry had insisted on driving to Kings' Cross instead of Side-Along Apparition.

"I do know, actually," James responded as he unlocked the doors of the car with a tap of his wand. Lily slid into the passenger seat and watched as James tapped the steering wheel with his wand and the engine roared to life, "This may surprise you, but even I was a little nervous on the first day, but once you get sorted and meet your dorm mates and you start going to classes things just take off and you don't have time to be nervous."

"But things are different from when we went to school." Lily said. She wiped her eyes as James shifted the car into gear and took off flying into the air. Looking out her window, she saw other cars taking to the air.

"It's nothing Harry can't handle and you know that," James said, "You've just got empty nest syndrome. Now that your baby boy is out of the house you don't know what to do with yourself. Well, I've got a few things in mind…" He trailed off with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.

"I'm not in the mood for jokes, James." she said, keeping her gaze focused out the window.

The smile fell off his face.

"Right," he deadpanned, "Of course not."

Lily was suffering from more than just empty nest syndrome. Raising Harry had been a steady battle against the outside world. A battle to make sure her son grew up with the right set of morals and beliefs; to make sure he didn't become a senseless muggle-hating drone of Dumbledore's 'Greater Good'. She was losing that battle.

Now, Harry was leaving her, even if only temporarily. She couldn't fight the battle for him anymore. He had to make his own decisions, choose his own morals. Unfortunately, the deck was stacked against him. He was leaving the shelter of her embrace and entering a dark world ruled by two power hungry old men.

All she could do was hope that her son would make the right decisions.


	2. Chapter 2

Book I

Chapter 2

Hogwarts

This was it. This was what he had been waiting for. He was standing on the Hogwarts Express and was one long train ride away from being at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. So why was he so nervous? The train lurched and began to pull out of the station. His eyes went to the nearest window and for a second he entertained the thought of leaping out of it and going back home with his parents. He knew his mother would be happy to have him back.

_No,_ He told himself, _You've been waiting for this as long as you can remember, you have no reason to be nervous._

But as he looked around the train's corridor and watched the other students settling into compartments, he found his nervousness impossible to squash down. So many of the other students were bigger than him. They laughed and joked loudly with each other and he was starting to feel out of place. But there was no going back now. The train had already pulled away from the station and was picking up steam.

Summoning what little courage he had, he strode forward trying not to look as uncomfortable as he felt. He kept his eyes on the ground, only looking up to make sure he wasn't about to run into anyone and to glance into the compartment doors in hopes of finding an empty one. A scream came from one compartment that caused him to jump out of his skin. He looked in long enough to see a black boy with dreadlocks holding a box with a hairy spider leg poking out. It was the girls surrounding the boy who had screamed. He rushed past that compartment and was lucky enough to find that the next one only had one other person in it.

He slid the compartment door open and poked his head in. The only other occupant was a girl who was too busy looking out the window to notice him.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" He asked, wincing as his voice cracked.

The girl turned away from the window and upon seeing her face Harry felt the floor drop from beneath him. Bushy brown hair and a pale face. She was the girl whose family his parents had helped in Daigon Alley. He rubbed his hand against his cheek at the memory of that day.

The girl, Hermione he remembered, shook her head and turned back to the window. Harry took a seat as far away from her as he could and an awkward silence settled over the compartment. Just when the silence was getting to be too much it was broken by a chorus of high-pitched squeals that came from just outside the compartment door. The door opened and Harry saw a group of at least a dozen girls. All of them were chattering excitedly about something in one loud voice that he couldn't understand. Some of them were holding pieces of parchment and quills, a few of them were holding cameras and taking pictures and one of them was crying.

Bewildered beyond all belief, Harry stood up and backed away from the door. He felt like he was under attack. But it wasn't him the girls were interested in. A tall redheaded boy pulled himself away from the pack of girls and stepped into Harry and Hermione's compartment. The girls reached after him and shouted his name (Ron, Harry could make out). The redhead pushed the girls away from him and managed to shut the door to the compartment.

"Wow," he said, running a hand through his hair as the girls outside continued to call after him and bang on the compartment door. The redhead, Ron, turned away from the door and faced the confused pair of Harry and Hermione. "Oh, didn't realize there were people in here. You guys don't mind if I stay do you? Got to get away from the crowds."

"It's okay," Harry said, though Ron had already taken a seat.

Ron looked at Harry expectantly. When Harry didn't say anything else, he extended his hand and introduced himself.

"I'm Ron Weasley," he said with a grin.

Harry shook his hand and said, "I'm Harry Potter."

Ron frowned, "You don't recognize me?" he asked.

Harry got the impression that this wasn't a usual occurrence, "Sorry," he said, though he wasn't sure what he was apologizing for.

"I'm Ron _Weasley_!" Ron said. "You know, _Weasley Automotive_? My family owns that company. My dad invented the flying car. My family's famous! We're in The Prophet nearly every other day!"

Now, Harry felt dumb. "Oh...sorry," he said, "My mum doesn't let me read The Prophet."

"Oh..." Ron said, stunned, "So...Potter, right? I don't think I've ever heard that name before. What do your parents do?"

"They don't really work," Harry said, feeling foolish for having said it. "But they're really rich," he added, hoping it would improve Ron's opinion of him.

Ron did seem impressed. "Must be from old money, huh?" he said.

Harry wasn't sure what that meant, but he smiled and nodded.

They lapsed into silence. Ron's eyes trailed around the compartment. His gaze landed on Hermione, but she had gone back to staring out the window so he didn't bother her. Realizing that Ron was getting bored, Harry quickly tried to start up a conversation.

"So, your father invented the car?" he asked, almost cringing at how lame he sounded.

Ron didn't notice. "Yeah," he said with an enthusiastic nod, "But he invented it a long time before I was born."

Ron looked like he wanted to say more, but he was cut off as Hermione spoke for the first time.

"Your father didn't invent the car," she said with acid in her tone. "Muggles invented the car ages ago. Your father just threw some charms on it to make it fly!"

Ron looked taken aback by her outburst, and Harry was starting to feel nervous again. For a long minute Ron and Hermione just stared at each other and Harry was afraid that a fight might break out. But a fight didn't break out. Ron just smirked.

"You must be a muggleborn," he said.

"And what if I am?"

Ron shook his head and turned away from her. He gave Harry a smile, jerked his thumb towards Hermione and shook his head, indicating that he thought she wasn't worth paying attention to. Harry smiled and shrugged, a simple gesture but one that caused Hermione to huff and turn back to staring out the window.

"So, you like Quidditch?" Ron asked.

Harry brightened, both happy at the change of subject and happy as always to talk about Quidditch. "Love it," he said with a smile. "Who's your team?"

"Chudley Cannons," Ron said, and Harry couldn't help but wince. "Hey, they'll get back to the cup some day!"

"Yeah, maybe if they replace the entire team and down a bunch of luck potion," Harry said, quoting something his father had said once. For a second, he was worried that he might have upset Ron by insulting his favorite team, but the redhead began to laugh and Harry joined in. By the time they were done laughing, Harry noticed that his nervousness from earlier was all gone and he had completely forgotten about Hermione.

"So, who's your team?" Ron asked after the laughter died down.

"Falmouth Falcons," Harry said with pride.

Ron scoffed. "Those bunch of thugs?"

"Hey, it might not be pretty, but they get they job done."

"If by 'get the job done' you mean 'crack the skulls of the opposing team'."

"Is there any other way to play?" Harry asked with a smirk.

Ron let out an uproarious laugh at that.

The two of them continued to talk Quidditch. They only sopped talking when a nice old lady pushing a cart full of snacks came around to their compartment. Ron dropped the woman a Sickle and grabbed an armful of snacks. The Quidditch talk continued around mouthfuls of treats. Neither boy offered to share their food with Hermione and she didn't ask for any.

It was as they were getting closer to Hogwarts that the door to their compartment slid open again, this time to permit a pale blond boy and two short, thick boys who flanked him like bodyguards. Harry and Ron halted their conversation as he entered and set his gaze upon Ron.

"Finally," he said with an exasperated roll of his eyes, "I've been looking for you all day, Weasley."

"Oy, Malfoy," Ron greeted. He stood up and shook the boy's hand. "Didn't see you on the platform."

"I suppose you didn't," Malfoy said with a smirk. "Too busy preening for the cameras, eh?"

Ron offered him a sheepish smile and shrugged. "I thought you were going to Drumstrang."

"I was, but mother just couldn't stand the thought of me being so far away," Malfoy said with another roll of his eyes. "The reason I was looking for you was because I overheard my father talking earlier today. He said he should have another shipment ready for your father's factory within a week."

"That's great!" Ron exclaimed. "Dad really wants to get the new models out before Christmas."

The two of them went on for a couple of minutes talking about their respective father's work. From the way they spoke they sounded as if they were the ones conducting business. Eventually, Draco's eyes ended up on Harry.

"That's Harry, Harry Potter," Ron said before Harry even had the chance to speak. Harry extended his hand to Draco, but he was already focused on the compartment's other passenger. Following his gaze to the window where Hermione sat, Ron said, "Don't worry about her."

"She's a muggleborn, isn't she?" Draco asked disdainfully.

"Yeah."

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here!" Hermione seethed, turning away from the window for the first time since she and Ron had last exchanged words.

Draco sneered at her but spared her no further words, instead he focused on Ron.

"You two shouldn't have to sit with her, why don't you come over to my compartment?"

Ron looked down to Harry to see if he agreed. Suddenly put on the spot, Harry looked away from Ron and found that Hermione was looking at him as well. When Harry didn't give an answer, she let out a disgusted groan. She stood up and pushed her way past Draco and Ron and left the compartment.

"Mudbloods," Draco muttered disdainfully.

Harry thought about bringing up the fact that his mother was a muggleborn, but Ron seemed to like Draco and Harry liked Ron and he didn't want to upset Ron by upsetting Draco, so he kept quiet.

"Ah, another girl sent running at the sight of our dear brother."

"Such a sad sight. I fear Ronnekins will never develop our womanizing ways."

At the sound of the two very similar voices, Ron groaned and Draco got noticeably paler.

Two new people appeared in the doorway to their compartment. They were both built short and stocky, and they had red hair and freckles similar to Ron's.

"Didn't mum tell the two of you not to mess with me?" Ron asked the two identical boys.

"She did indeed," one of the boys said.

"Funny thing about that is, mum's not here," the other one added.

"If you try to prank me I'm going to write her a letter and she'll send you a howler!" Ron said.

"Oh please," One of the twins said with a wave of his hand.

"Howlers from mum are a weekly occurrence for us. You think we care?"

Ron let out a defeated sigh and plopped down in his seat next to Harry. Lucky for him, the twins had set their eyes on Draco.

"Oh, Draco, didn't see you there!" one of the twins exclaimed.

Draco took a cautionary step away from the twins and his two bodyguards stepped together to form a solid wall of meat in front of him.

The two twins turned to each other. "I think he's still afraid of us, George," one said.

"Still?" George asked. "How many times do we have to explain that we didn't _mean_ to dye his hair green."

"You did it on purpose!" Draco said. "I saw you do it!"

"Well, we meant to dye your hair, obviously, but we didn't mean for it be green," The unnamed twin said.

"Yeah, we wanted it be orange. You know, make you apart of the family," George said with a wild grin. "In fact, maybe we should try again."

Draco's eyes went wide as the twins pulled out their wands. He pushed his two bodyguards aside and rushed past the twins and out of the compartment. His bewildered bodyguards bumbled along after him. With Draco gone, the twins sat down across from Ron and Harry.

"Why do you guys have to be so mean to him?" Ron asked.

"Cause he's a prat," George said. He reached over and grabbed a chocolate frog out of Harry and Ron's pile of snacks.

"Plus, like you said, mum said we can't prank you," The other twin said. "We've got to expend our creative urges somewhere."

"Anyways, aren't you going to introduce us to your new friend?" George asked around a mouthful of chocolate frog.

"His name's Harry Potter," Ron said. "And these two are Fred and George. Don't bother trying to figure out which is which, they constantly switch just to confuse people. Mum's the only one who can really tell them apart."

"Potter, eh?" Fred said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I say, George, wasn't there a lad asking around about some Harry Potter?"

"Really?" Harry asked, wondering why anyone would be looking for him.

"Are you sure it was Harry Potter he was looking for?" George asked. "I could have sworn he was looking for Harvey Trotter."

"No, no, it was definitely Harry Potter," Fred said, and Harry got the impression the two of them were playing a game. "What I can't remember is the young lad's name. Longfelllow? Longtrousers?"

"Longbottom?" Harry asked. "As in Neville Longbottom?"

Fred shook his head and gave Harry an incredulous look, "Now that's just ridiculous, what kind of name is Longbottom?"

"Wait," Ron said, turning to Harry, "Do you know Neville Longbottom?"

"Yeah, he's kind of my friend."

"_The_ Neville Longbottom?" Ron asked, "As in, the son of Frank and Alice Longbottom, the highest ranking Knights in the Empire?"

"Er, yeah."

"How did you meet him?" Ron asked, eyes wide with amazement.

"Dumbledore invited him to my birthday party last year, ever since then we've-"

"Dumbledore?" Ron questioned disbelievingly, "_Dumbledore_ invited him to your birthday party?"

"Yeah, Dumbledore lives in the same village as I do, so I see him a lot. Sometimes he'll come over for dinner or invite our family over for dinner at his house. He couldn't come to my birthday party last year so he sent the Longbottom family instead."

"You...know Dumbledore?" Ron asked.

"This conversation is getting redundant, little brother," Fred interjected.

"I say, I've grown bored of his company," George added.

"He's not even paying attention to us anymore," Fred said, "What say we make our leave?"

"Let's."

The twins stood and left, leaving Harry and the stunned Ron alone. A silence followed their departure and Harry desperately tried to think of something to say so Ron would stop staring at him like he was a famous Quidditch star.

"You have to tell me about him," Ron blurted.

"Er-what?"

"Dumbledore. What's he like? Is he scary to be around?"

Harry laughed at the thought. Ron looked confused.

"No, he's not scary at all. He's actually really nice, and kind of weird."

"Weird?"

"Yeah, like funny," Harry said, "It's kind of hard to explain. Dumbledore is...very unique." That was really an understatement, but Harry couldn't think of a better way to describe the old wizard.

"Wow, I wish I could meet him," Ron said. "Fred and George say he gives a speech at the Hogwarts Welcoming Feast, but I think they might be lying. They also told me that to get sorted into a house you have to wrestle a troll."

"I hope that's not true. My dad said to get into Gryffyndor house you have to duel to the death, but he likes to joke around a lot."

"My whole family's been Gryffyndor, so I don't think that's true," Ron said with a thoughtful look on his face, "If it were I don't think Percy would still be alive today."

"Percy?" Harry asked, "Is that another one of your brothers?"

Ron nodded, "Oh yeah, I've got loads of brothers. You've already met Fred and George. I'm sure you'll meet Percy later, he's a Prefect. Then there's Bill and Charlie, but they're both out of school already. Bill was Head Boy in his day, and Charlie was Quidditch Captain. Bill went on to work at dad's company and Charlie buggered off to study dragon's or something. Then there's Ginny, she's my younger sister. She's also really annoying."

"One brother was Qudditch Captain and the other was Head Boy?" Harry asked. "Guess that means you've got a lot to live up to."

Ron shrugged, "Never really thought about it that way."

The door to their compartment opened again and this time Harry recognized the person who walked through. Round-faced and slightly red in the cheeks, Neville Longbottom grinned at him.

"Harry!" he said, "I've been looking all over for you," he paused, "Well, actually I was looking for you, and then I lost Trevor so I was looking for him. Then I found Trevor and I started looking for you again."

Harry smiled. "It's good to see you, Neville. Were your parents able to make it?"

Neville's face fell. "No," he said. He moved further into the compartment and took the seat across from Harry, "They had business to attend to, so Uncle Algie and Gran brought me."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Harry said. He knew that Neville's parents were away a lot due to their work for the Empire.

"It's alright!" Neville said, brightening up, "Uncle Algie got me a pet!" He reached into the pockets of his robes and pulled out a slimy green toad, "Meet Trevor!"

Trevor let out a loud croak.

Harry tried to seem impressed. "That's uh, really cool. My mum wouldn't let me have a pet. Said I didn't need one."

"Does he...do anything?" Ron asked, casting a disgusted look at Trevor.

Neville turned to Ron in surprise, as if noticing him for the first time, "Blimey! You're Ron Weasley!"

Ron flashed a indulgent smile, "Yeah, I am."

"Wow," Neville said in awe, "I read about your family in the Prophet all the time! Is it true your brother Bill is dating Gwenog Jones?"

"Probably," Ron said with a shrug, "He's got a new girlfriend every week."

"He's so cool. It must be great to have an older brother like him."

"Sure..." Ron said slowly. His eyes trailed down from Neville's wistful face to his open palm, "What happened to your toad?"

Neville's eyes went wide as he realized he wasn't holding Trevor anymore.

"He was just here!" he said. He threw himself to the ground and frantically searched for his pet, "Trevor! Trevor!" he called, though Harry couldn't imagine the wayward toad ever responding, "Where could he have gotten off to? Can you guys help me look for him?"

Harry looked to Ron who made a face that said he certainly was not about to start crawling on the ground looking for a slimy green toad. So, Harry got on his knees and tried to help Neville find his pet. He felt incredibly silly and he hoped that no one would open their compartment door and find him on the floor shouting the name of a toad. Of course, the door did open, but luckily it was the same old witch who had been pushing around the snack cart earlier. She cast an appraising gaze at the two boys on the floor, but said nothing. She had probably seen much worse on the Hogwarts Express before.

"We're just about to pull into Hogsmeade Station, dearies," she said sweetly, "So make sure you're ready."

"I've lost my pet toad!" Neville said , his eyes watering and his voice cracking. Harry felt truly bad for Neville, less because he had lost his toad and more because he was on his knees on the verge of crying in front of a complete stranger.

The old woman gave him a sympathetic smile, "Don't worry, deary, I'm sure he'll turn up soon. Why, I think I've found him already."

Indeed, standing just at the woman's feet was Trevor the toad, leaving Harry to wonder how he had gotten there without any of them noticing.

"Trevor!"

The toad seemed to take a long look at Neville. Then, he let loose a loud croak and hopped out the open door way.

"Wait!" Neville pushed himself to his feet and chased the toad out of the compartment and throughout the train.

The old woman watched as Neville chased the toad then turned back to Harry and Ron to offer them a kind smile before she shut the door to their compartment again.

"He's not really what I expected," Ron said as Harry got off the floor and sat back down.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"You know, him being the son of the two most famous Knights in the Empire. I just expected him to be...cool."

Harry tried to think of a way to defend his friend, but he came to the conclusion that Ron was right. Neville wasn't very cool.

Just as the old lady had said, the train came to a stop. Harry and Ron exited their compartment and made for the nearest exit. Despite the large number of students all trying to exit the train at once, Harry and Ron had an easy go of it as many students stepped aside as Ron approached, pointing and whispering all the while. Harry thought all of the extra attention would be annoying, but Ron didn't mind. In fact, he smiled and winked at everyone as he passed.

As soon as they got off the train and onto the platform, they heard the sickly call of "First years over here!"

The man shouting was short and middle aged. He had a heavily wrinkled face and a head of thinning black hair and a thin mustache. He held a lamp over his head as he continued to call for the first years to gather around him.

"That's Macnair," Ron whispered as they made their way through the crowds towards the man, "Fred and George say he's a right prat, and that he hates first years."

"So, why is he calling us all together?"

"He's supposed to take us across the lake so we can get to Hogwarts," Ron said, "Fred and George told me that if you so much as say one word during the ride he'll toss you overboard and let the giant squid have at you."

Harry gulped. "There's a giant squid in the lake?"

"He's supposed to be quite vicious too."

"All right you lot, gather 'round!" Macnair said, his voice practically oozing, "I ain't got all day! Is that all the first years? Anymore first years?"

"Wait for me!" came a cry.

Harry turned around to see Neville running towards the group of first years, Trevor securely gripped in his hands. A chorus of giggles echoed through the group and Neville's cheeks reddened.

"Right then," Macnair said, leveling a nasty look in Neville's direction, "Follow me, and keep up!"

He led them down and away from the train platform along a dirt road that traveled way from Hogsmeade Village and towards the edge of a forest.

"He's not taking us into the Forbidden Forest, is he?" Neville whispered, his voice shaking.

"Of course not," Ron said with exasperation, "He's taking us down to the lake."

They stumbled down the path, surrounded by darkness on all sides. They rounded a bend and came upon a placid black lake. On the other side of the lake, perched on a hill, stood a vast castle. A ripple of excitement ran through the first years.

"Shut it!" Macnair barked. He led them further down the path to the edge of the lake where a small dock was situated. "Four to a boat! And not a peep out you!"

Harry followed Ron, who found an empty boat at the front of the fleet and carefully took a seat. Harry lowered himself into the boat as well, quite uneasy with how much it rocked from side to side. Neville followed him, and a girl Harry didn't know also joined them. Macnair, who had a boat all to himself at the head of the group, watched over them with what seemed to be a permanent glare. Once everyone had clambered into boats he began barking orders again.

"Keep your hands in the boat! And not a word out of any of your mouths!" with that said he paused, then he did something that terrified Harry more than his dour demeanor ever could. He smiled. His face wrinkled in an unfamiliar way and his crooked teeth shone in the moonlight. "There's nasty things in this here lake. You make one mistake and you'll be meetin' 'em right quick."

He took a minute to soak in all the fear that suddenly permeated the small dock before turning and shouting "FORWARD". The boats began to glide across the lake of their own accord. Macnair's promise of nasty lake monsters kept all of the first years quiet as the castle towered above them. They sailed into a dark tunnel that took them directly underneath the castle and came to a stop at small a harbor.

The first years clambered out of the boats onto a smooth stone surface. Still, no one dared to speak a word, but their good performance didn't seem to impress Macnair.

"Alright, line up! Look orderly!" he barked, "One toe out of line and I'll send you right back into the lake!"

"That will be enough, Mr. Macnair," Came a smooth, quiet voice. Harry turned to face the man who had spoken, and found him no more appealing than Macnair. He had sallow skin and a large hooked nose. His black hair was long and had a greasy slick to it. He had an ever present sneer on his face worse than Macnair's.

"Of course, Professor Snape," Macnair said with a small bow of his head, sounding like a decent human being for the first time that night even if he still didn't look like one. He turned and gave the first year's one last glare before he slipped away into the shadows, hopefully to never be seen again.

"I am Professor Severus Snape, Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts," Snape said with a look that made it clear that he demanded respect. He paused for a moment and cast an appraising look over all of them. "Follow me."

Harry could instantly tell that Snape was entirely different from Macnair. Snape didn't need to bark out orders, his very presence demanded their silence and the look on his face promised more than just a dip in the lake if they displeased him. So, they all remained silent as he led them out of the small harbor and out onto the damp grass of Hogwart's front lawn. They followed him up a small side path that led to the large oak doors that served as the entrance to the great castle.

A casual wave of Snape's hand caused the doors to slowly creak open and they followed him into an expansive entrance hall. The ceiling of the hall was high enough to accommodate a giant and the walls were covered in candles that kept the hall alight. A constant hum of voices echoed throughout the hall, but they came from behind a set of doors to the right. Snape approached those doors, but turned and faced the first years before opening them.

"You will stay in a straight and orderly line," Snape said softly, "You will not speak a word until you have been sorted and seated at your House's table. Any attempt to cause trouble will be met with a swift expulsion. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Professor," the first years chorused. Snape cast his appraising gaze on all of them, scanning each of their faces for any hint of discontent. As his dark eyes passed over Harry, they lingered for just a moment, and in that moment his permanent glare transformed into a look of pure loathing. It happened so quickly Harry wasn't even sure he saw it, before he could question it Snape had already turned away and with another wave on his hand the doors opened.

The dim roar of conversation died out as the first years were marched into the Great Hall. Hundreds of floating candles lit the hall. There were four long tables were the students sat, each with banners of it's corresponding houses colors flown above it. At the head of the Hall was another long table, this one seating the professors of Hogwarts. Harry recognized his Uncle Moony sitting at the High Table but was surprised at the presence of another man he recognized.

"Dumbledore!" Harry whispered excitedly as he met the eyes of the man from across the large hall and received a wink in greeting.

"I guess Fred and George weren't lying," Ron whispered to Harry, clearly just as in awe at the man's presence.

Sitting next to Dumbledore was a man who took Harry's breath away. He had never had the displeasure of meeting a dementor, but from pictures he had seen this man looked exactly like one. He was clothed from head to toe in pitch black robes that seemed to absorb all the light around him. His hands, which sported abnormally long fingers, were covered in black gloves. The man's face was covered by a stark white mask. The mask was entirely featureless; no eye holes, no mouth slot.

"Headmaster Riddle," Ron whispered, following Harry's gaze, "They say he wears all that clothing because he was horribly disfigured by some muggles back in his days at the MRS."

Harry made to ask how the Headmaster could see through his mask, but was distracted by action at the front of the line. Professor Snape had pulled up an ordinary three-legged stool and sat upon it a tattered old hat.

"What's he doing?" Harry asked Ron. The other boy could only shrug in response.

Without any explanation whatsoever, Snape reached into his robes and pulled out a roll of parchment. He unrolled the paper slowly and looked over its contents.

"Abbott, Hannah," he called out, his voice echoing through the Great Hall. Nothing happened. "Abbott, Hannah," He called again, this time with a distinct edge to his voice.

A girl with blond pigtails suddenly jumped out of line and quickly shuffled up to where Professor Snape stood. Snape gave her a look of disdain but didn't say anything. He removed the hat from the stool and pointed a bony finger at it. Hannah clambered onto the stool and sat facing the rest of the students, a notable redness to her cheeks. Professor Snape dropped the hat on her head and it fell over her eyes. The entire hall watched in silence for minute until the brim of the hat split open and it shouted "HUFFLEPUFF".

Cheers and applause exploded from one of the long four tables. Hannah pulled the hat from her head and placed it back on the stool. With a grateful smile she walked over to the Hufflepuff's table and took a seat.

"That's it?" Harry said in stunned awe, "We just have to wear a hat?"

He was actually disappointed. No trolls, no duels to the death; just a tattered old hat. Ron ran a hand through his hair and cast an aggravated look towards his brothers at Gryffindor table.

Susan Bones was called up next and was sorted into Hufflepuff. Terry Boot followed after her and was sorted into Ravenclaw. Eventually, Hermione Granger was sorted into Gryffindor after spending a lengthy amount of time with the hat on her head. Neville had a strange look of discomfort on his face as he sat under the hat but before long he was sorted into Gryffindor. The hat barely touched Dracon Malfoy's head before he was sorted into Sylnterin. Eventually, Sally-Ann Perks was sorted into Gryffindor and it was Harry's turn.

"Potter...Harry." Snape intoned, notably hesitating after Harry's last name.

Harry stepped out of line and made his way towards the stool as quickly as he could without flat out running. As he got closer to the High Table, he received a wink from Dumbledore and an encouraging smile from Moony. He hoisted himself up onto the stool and Snape put the hat on his head more forcefully than he had the others.

"Hmmm. Quite an interesting one you are, boy," a voice whispered right behind his ears. The voice sounded incredibly bored.

"Interesting?" Harry asked, keeping his voice down so it wouldn't echo throughout the hall. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"A good question," the hat said, "I suppose it depends on the perspective of it all. There was a time when being interesting or unique was a desirable trait, but these days it seems the less you stand out the better. Though I'm sure you know all about that."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I guess you don't know then," the hat said, a hint of teasing to it's otherwise dull voice, "Now let's see what House you're suited for, hmm? Not a bad mind at all, and there's definitely plenty of loyalty to go around. I think you would fit right in as a Hufflepuff."

"What about Gryffindor?" Harry asked.

"Gryffindor, eh?" said the hat appraisingly, "You've got the potential to be a great Gryffindor, perhaps one of the best, but I don't know that you've got the will to reach that potential."

"I do," Harry said. He sounded desperate, but he didn't care. "I promise I do."

"Well, if that's the case then I guess I've got no other choice than to put you in GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry pulled the hat off his head quickly, almost afraid that it would change it's mind. He was met with a polite amount of cheering and applause. With a smile he made his way to the table under the red and gold banners and found a seat next to Neville.

Eventually, Ron's name was called and whispering broke out all over the Great Hall. Harry noticed that most of the whispering came from younger girls. For his part, Ron strode up to the hat with his head held high and his chest poked out. Snape gave the redhead a disapproving look, but Ron didn't notice as he sat on the stool and gave the entire Great Hall his best smile. The hat slid down Ron's head and after a few seconds it belted out "GRYFFINDOR".

Loud cheers went up from Gryffindor table as Ron strode over, none louder than Ron's brothers Fred and George.

"We're so proud of you, little brother!" one twin proclaimed in a high pitched voice.

"The Prince of Gryffindor has arrived!" the other twin shouted.

The effusive praise coming from his brothers made Ron go red in the cheeks and cost him quite a bit of his swagger. He made his way to the table and sat next to Neville and Harry. The cheers died down, but Fred and George continued to lavish him with praise. Ron buried his face in his hands and finally a very loud clearing of Snape's throat silenced the twins.

The rest of the sorting went off without a hitch and ended when "Zabini, Blaise" was sorted into Slytherin. When the last of the applause died down and the sorting hat was taken away by Professor Snape, Headmaster Riddle stood at the High Table.

"Welcome," he said. His voice was raspy, but otherwise clear despite the mask obscuring his face. "Welcome to another year at glorious Hogwarts. To those of you who don't know me, I am Headmaster Riddle. As always, we have been privileged enough to be in the company of Chancellor Dumbledore, who I believe has some words for our new students."

Dumbledore smiled and stood up. "As I'm sure you are all eager to fill your bellies, I will try to be brief," he said, the twinkle in his blue eyes visible to all in the Great Hall, "Though I'm sure your parents have already filled your head with all sorts of wisdom, I'd like to ask you to make room in your brains for one last piece of advice. That advice is that you be good to one another for there is nothing more important in this world than the unity of wizards," he paused and swept his eyes over the Great Hall; the mostly confused faces he saw did nothing to deter his smile, "That is all. You may tuck in."

Harry pulled his eyes away from Dumbledore as a myriad of food appeared on the plates before him. The clattering of silverware and plates consumed the Great Hall as everyone began to pile the food onto their own plates. Harry, however, was too busy focusing on what Dumbledore had said to bother grabbing any food.

"What do you suppose he meant by all that?" he asked, turning to Ron, who had already amassed a virtual mountain of food in front of him and was busy chewing on a turkey leg.

"Mmphm?" the redhead said around his mouth of food when he realized Harry was talking to him.

"Nothing," Harry said and turned to Neville who seemed to be just as equally disinterested in Dumbledore's speech.

"Dumbledore always says something like that at the Welcoming Feast," said George, who was sitting across from Harry.

"Always something about the greater good or unity among wizards," Fred said.

"After a while everyone just stops listening to him."

Harry looked to the staff table, where Dumbledore had taken his seat and engaged in a conversation with Headmaster Riddle. Deciding to leave Dumbledore's words alone for now, Harry dug into the feast.

As the clink of utensils against plates died down and many students pushed their leftover food away, Headmaster Riddle stood and delivered a few obligatory announcements. The Forbidden Forest was still forbidden and caretaker Argus Filch had added a few items to the banned list. Once the feast was formally over, Ron's older brother Percy gathered up the Gryffindor first years and lead them out of the Great Hall. Harry tried to memorize the route they took to get to Gryffindor Tower, but Percy led them up and down so many sets of stairs, and a couple of times they even went through a tapestry hanging on the wall. The halls of the castle defied common sense and Harry wasn't sure how he was going to make it down to the Great Hall for breakfast in the morning.

It was just as Percy was leading them through another tapestry on the fifth floor that Harry caught a glimpse of Dumbledore walking further down the hall. He only saw the man for a second before he rounded a corner and was gone. Common sense told Harry that he should leave Dumbledore alone and continue following his group, but just like his father Harry had developed a penchant for ignoring his common sense. He slowed down enough to allow the rest of the first years to pass him by. Ron had been abducted by a couple of girls and Neville had lost Trevor again and was pleading with Percy to let him go back to the Great Hall to find him; unknowingly distracting the Prefect as Harry slipped to the back of the group and headed off down the hallway in search of Dumbledore.

Harry rounded the corner just in time to see Dumbledore further down the hall trotting up a set of stairs. He made after him at a light jog, not daring to call out his name in fear of drawing unwanted attention. He reached the stairway and made his way up it tentatively as Percy had earlier explained that some of steps were jinxed. When he finally reached the top of the stairs he was on the sixth floor and there was no sign of Dumbledore.

After a quick, panicked search Harry noticed that a tapestry further down the sixth floor corridor had been pulled open and wasn't closed all the way. Taking it as a sign he ran to the open tapestry and found a narrow stone staircase behind it. He jogged up this staircase, more worried about losing Dumbledore than stepping on a jinxed step. When he got to the top of the staircase he found himself alone on the seventh floor corridor. This time there was no open tapestry to guide him. He began to panic and frantically looked around the corridor.

"Lord Dumbledore, sir," he called out. He tried to keep his voice quiet, but it echoed against the stone walls of the castle anyway. Suddenly, he heard footsteps.

"Yes, I heard it too, Mrs. Norris," came a voice from further down the corridor that did not belong to Dumbledore.

Harry turned around, intent on going back through the tapestry. His heart sank when he was met with nothing but blank stone wall. The tapestry had disappeared! He searched the hall frantically and found another tapestry further down. He ran to it and tried to pull it open, but to his dismay it turned out to be just an ordinary tapestry that depicted a man trying to teach trolls ballet.

"I see you down there, boy!" came a shout from further down the corridor, "Don't try to run!"

Another trait Harry had inherited from his father was the tendency to not listen to authority figures, so he ran. He belted down the corridor and turned a corner. He continued running down this new corridor towards a set of stairs. Just as he thought that maybe he would be able to get away something furry tangled itself between his legs and he fell to the ground. He tried to pick himself up and make another run for it, but a set of heavy footsteps told him his pursuer had already caught up to him.

"Thought you could get away, did you boy?" his pursuer said between wheezing breaths. He bent over and put his hands on his knees, but never took his eyes off Harry. "Good job, Mrs. Norris."

Before Harry could ask who Mrs. Norris was, a meow came from his feet. Looking down, he saw that the furry thing that had gotten tangled between his legs and tripped him had been a cat. The cat hissed at him and then trotted to her master and rubbed against his leg.

The man, having caught his breath, strode over to Harry with a disturbing grin and pulled him from the ground by the front of his robes.

"Headmaster Riddle will have you expelled for this boy," he said with a sick sort of glee, "Out causing trouble on the first night of term? I'd say you'll set a new record for expulsion."

"I wasn't trying to cause trouble, I promise," Harry said.

"I'll have none of your lies," the man said, "You can plead your case to the Headmaster, though I doubt he'll want to hear it."

"I don't think that will be necessary, Mr. Filch," came a voice that alleviated all of Harry's fear.

"Chancellor Dumbledore!" Filch said, turning to Dumbledore and bowing to him, "I didn't know you were still in the castle, sir."

"I had some last minute business to attend to," Dumbledore said, "Now, I shall escort young Mr. Potter here back to his dormitories."

"But, Headmaster Riddle-"

"Is far too busy to concern himself with a student who got lost on the way to his dormitories." Dumbledore said with a commanding tone, "So, if you'll please excuse us."

"Of course, sir," Filch said with another bow. He cast a hateful look towards Harry and shuffled off with Mrs. Norris in tow. Harry and Dumbledore walked in the opposite direction, towards Gryffindor tower.

"Thank you so much, sir," Harry said as soon as Filch was out of sight.

"Think nothing of it, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said with a genial smile, "Though I know a tendency towards rule breaking runs in your family, know that I won't always be here to help you."

"I wasn't trying to cause trouble, I swear," Harry said, "I just...I followed you because...well, I'm not sure why. I guess I just wanted to talk."

"Understandable," Dumbledore said with a nod, "It has been sometime since we've talked. I suppose it's my fault."

"It's not your fault. I know you're busy."

"Indeed I am, but know that no matter how busy I am you can always contact me if you feel the need to talk about anything. Just send me a letter."

"That's good to know, sir," Harry said with a smile.

"I'm sure your parents will be happy when you tell them you were sorted into Gryffindor."

"My dad said I couldn't come home unless I was sorted into Gryffindor."

Dumbledore chuckled. "He was joking, I'm sure."

"He's _always_ joking." Harry said with a roll of his eyes.

"It's a pity they couldn't be here to see you get sorted," Dumbledore said, "I've always thought if there was a flaw in Hogwarts tradition it is that parents can't attend the sorting ceremony."

"Do you really come to the Welcoming Feast every year?" Harry asked.

"Indeed, though it's not quite the spectacle it used to be. The Sorting Hat used to sing, you know."

"Really? Why did it stop?"

Dumbledore shrugged, "I suppose it got tired of having to think up a new song every year."

Harry giggled, for some reason finding the idea of a singing hat that got tired of singing ridiculous.

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Eventually, they arrived at a portrait of a fat woman.

"This is the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, if memory serves," Dumbledore said. He smiled at the woman in the portrait, "Hello, dear."

The woman scrutinized Dumbledore before finally saying, "Oh, it's _you_."

"I don't suppose you would let my young friend into the common room without the password?"

The fat lady turned her scrutinizing gaze to Harry. "I guess it won't hurt this once," she said slowly, "Though he really ought to be made to sleep in the halls for breaking off from his group."

With that said she swung open to reveal a round hole in the wall.

"In you go," Dumbledore said. Harry climbed through the hole and on the other side was the Gryffindor Common Room. He turned back to the entrance and waved to Dumbledore.

"Good night, sir."

"Good night, Harry."

And the portrait swung closed.

**

* * *

**

"Harry! Wake up, mate!"

Harry opened his eyes only to be met with piercing sunlight. He blinked and let his eyes adjust until he could make out the blurry image of Ron's freckled face.

"Morning, Ron," he greeted, pushing himself up and reaching for his glasses on the nightstand.

"Where'd you get off to last night?" Ron asked, "Even Fred and George didn't sneak out on their first night in the castle."

"I wanted to talk to Dumbledore," Harry said, "So I broke away from the group to find him. Got lost, nearly got expelled."

"Dumbledore!" one of the other boys in the dorm exclaimed with an Irish accent, "Do you really know him?"

"Er-Yeah, we live in the same village. He's kind of a friend of my family."

The boy let out a low whistle. "Well ain't that something? I'm Seamus Finnegan, by the way. I see you already know Ron. That there is Dean."

"Dean Thomas," the tall black boy said with a wave.

"Aye. And that one's name is-"

"Neville," Harry finished, turning to the boy who sat on the edge of his bed looking depressed. "What's wrong?"

"I lost Trevor again," he said, his voice monotone.

"Who's Trevor?" Seamus asked.

"His _toad,_" Ron said with a roll of his eyes.

"I'm sure he'll turn up just like last time," Harry said with a smile, "He's probably waiting for you down in the Great Hall."

Neville smiled a bit, "I suppose you're right," he said, though he didn't sound very convinced. He got off his bed and began to get dressed. Harry did the same. The boys were all dressed in a matter of minutes and they headed down to the Common Room and out the portrait hole. Seamus led the way to the Great Hall, but they got lost and had to be pointed in the right direction by one of Hogwarts' resident ghosts. When they finally made it to the Great Hall, it was much too busy to search for Neville's wayward toad. Harry once again tried to reassure Neville that Trevor would show up eventually as the boys settled in at the Gryffindor table and ate. The morning mail was delivered as a flurry of owls flew in through the windows of the Great Hall. With the mail came a letter from Harry's mother.

"A letter from your mam already?" Seamus asked with a grin, "Must've gotten into some trouble last night, eh?"

"No," Harry said with a frown as he read through the letter, "She's just...checking up on me."

Ron snorted. "Checking up on you? It was your first night in the castle, what's the worst that could have happened?"

The other boys chuckled.

"Well, he did almost get expelled," Dean said.

Harry blushed. "I don't think I'm going to tell her about that."

The boys laughed more, even Neville.

"Hey Ronniekins, check this out!" George Weasley said as he muscled his way into a seat between Seamus and Dean. Harry found himself being pushed aside as Fred took a seat next to his brother. George laid out an edition of the Daily Prophet right over Ron's plate. Harry leaned over to see what George was referring to and saw an article in the paper titled "Youngest Weasley Son Makes Trip to Hogwarts". Just as Harry was about to express amazement that Ron had gotten his own article in the paper, Fred spoke.

"Didn't even make the front page, Ronniekins," he said in a disappointed tone.

"Bill made the first page," George said.

"And Charlie."

"And Percy."

"You two didn't make the front page," Ron said.

"We would have," George said.

"If we hadn't put Everlasting Itching Powder in the reporter's pants," Fred continued.

George nodded. "The media doesn't like us very much. I don't think they understand us."

"But you, little brother, they've no reason to dislike you."

"Maybe six Weasley boys is just too much for the media to handle?" George mused.

Ron frowned, grabbed the paper and flipped to the front page. What he saw made him smile.

"Here's why I'm not on the front page," he said, triumph evident in his voice, "The Ministry was attacked last night. They're practically forced to run that on the front page!"

Fred and George shared a look that said they knew the joke had run its course.

"If you say so, little brother," Fred said, "But if you ask us this is troubling news."

"Very troubling indeed," George said.

Ron didn't react, instead he focused on the article on the front page of the Prophet. With their joke over, Fred and George left and Harry was able to retake his seat. He leaned over and peered at the paper Ron was reading. Indeed, the headline on the front page read "British Ministry Attacked".

"What's it say?" Harry asked.

Ron folded the paper up and tossed it over his shoulder. "Says a bunch of upstart muggles tried to attack the Ministry building last night," he said, "Doesn't really sound very important, if you ask me."

"Why would muggles want to attack the Ministry building?" Neville asked.

"Because they're _muggles,_" Ron said as if it were obvious.

* * *

Harry's first week at Hogwarts passed quickly. Classes started off as new and exciting but it didn't take him long to figure out that magical classes were quite similar to the non-magical classes he had taken with his mother, that is they involved a lot of work; something he wasn't very fond of.

Transfiguration was taught by Professor McGonagall, the Gryffindor head of house. Any thoughts he had entertained of her showing he and his classmates favor for being their head of house went out the window when she docked he and Ron points for being late to class on the first day (they had gotten lost and Peeves the Poltergeist had given them directions that took them to the other side of the castle). She was a very stern witch and wasn't against giving out long homework assignments.

Charms with Professor Flitwick was a bit more fun. Flitwick was a tiny old wizard who bubbled with energy and enthusiasm. His was a very practical class, often starting with him introducing them to a new charm which they would then practice for the rest of the class period. Unfortunately, even bubbly Professor Flitwick gave out long homework assignments regularly.

The Defense class was a welcome relief from the norm. Professor Lupin (it was hard for Harry not to think of him as Uncle Moony) told them from day one of class that they wouldn't be using their books. His first class period he admitted to the entire class that he was a werewolf, and then went on to give a lecture on werewolves. Despite Professor Lupin's obvious hesitancy to admit his condition to the class, most of Harry's classmates didn't think any less of him. It was a tenant of the Empire that all wizards were equal, even if they were a werewolf, vampire or muggleborn.

By far Harry's most interesting class in his first week was Dark Arts class. It was taught by an old German man named Professor Rätsel. Rätsel's head was bald, but he had a thick gray goatee and bushy eyebrows. He had a very harsh looking face, as if he had been born scowling and had never stopped. As the children filed into class that day he watched them with cold black eyes. Once they had all found seats, he began to speak.

"Magic," he said with a light accent, "Is change. When we wave our wands and say our incantations, we are forcing our very will on the fabric of existence and changing it. We defy gravity. We turn one thing into another. Change," he paused and stood up from behind his desk. With a noticeable limp he walked around the classroom and continued speaking, "No branch of magic represents this concept better than the Dark Arts. For what greater change is there than to suddenly stamp out a life? To force your will on another's mind and make them act according to your wishes? The Dark Arts themselves are constantly changing, and if you wish to master them you will have to change as well."

He came to a stop at the front of the class and faced them all with his hands held behind his back.

"Some of you will not like this class. Despite your preconceived notions of intelligence, some of you will fail this class. Unfortunately for those of you, that is just how the Dark Arts work. You can't learn them from a book and no matter how much you practice you can't get better at them unless you have what it takes to change yourself. Understood?"

The class remained silent, even Hermione Granger who had proven to be a know-it-all throughout their first couple of classes together.

"Of course you don't understand. You may not understand even once you graduate, but it is my job to at least try to teach you. Any questions?"

Hermione's hand went up.

"No? Then let's begin."

And then Rätsel introduced them to the Dark Arts. He showed to them the 'Unforgivable' curses and a dozen other spells designed to inflict pain and destruction. Some students left the class looking pale and frightened. Others were giddy at the prospect of learning the Dark Arts. Harry couldn't help but be excited. The Dark Arts were obviously powerful, and he couldn't think of any reason why he should fear them. To him it was just another class.

The rest of Harry's week was mostly uninteresting. Astronomy class took place Wednesday at midnight and while Harry wasn't sure how Astronomy related to magic he found the class rather easy so he didn't complain. They met at the greenhouses for Herbology three times a week. Neville seemed to enjoy that class the most and Harry and Ron mostly just followed his example since he seemed to know what he was doing. History of Magic was taught by an incredibly old man named Elphias Dodge, who was perhaps a bigger fan of Dumbledore than Harry.

Eventually it came to be that the week was almost over and the only class Harry had left was a double period of Potions on Friday afternoon.

"Fred and George say Professor Snape is the meanest professor in the whole school," Ron said as they made their way down to the dungeons, "They said he'll dock you fifty house points just for sneezing while he's talking."

"I don't think I'm going to trust anything your brothers say ever again," Harry said.

"That's the thing about them though; between all the lies they sometimes tell the truth so you never know what to expect."

"Well, I don't think it's possible for him to be any worse than McGonagall," Harry said with a shrug, "Plus, I think he's a friend of my mothers."

"First Lupin, now Snape?" Ron asked incredulously.

"I don't personally know him, but he did come to one of my mum's birthday parties a few years ago. He didn't stick around long though."

"Maybe he'll show you some favor?" Ron asked.

Snape didn't show Harry any favor, in fact he spent the entire period verbally abusing Harry. He would ask questions Harry didn't know the answer to, ignore anyone else who tried to answer the question and then he would dock house points when Harry didn't answer the question. By the time class was over Harry felt so humiliated that he just wanted to go back to his room, lay in bed and never get up.

Later that night before he went to bed he wrote a letter to his mother asking why Snape would be so mean to him. The letter he received the next morning was uncharacteristically brief:

_Dear Harry,_

_It's probably best if you stay as far away from Professor Snape as possible._

_Love, _

_Your Mother_


	3. Chapter 3

Book I

Chapter 3

Ater Aduro

The end of Harry's second week at Hogwarts brought flying lessons for the first year Gryffindors and Slytherins. They met the hawkish Madame Hooch at the Quidditch pitch and flew basic formations on the school's rickety old brooms. Harry flew lackadaisical circles around his classmates, many of whom had trouble getting their brooms off the ground. For the final portion of their lesson, Madam Hooch ordered them to fly ten laps around the Quidditch pitch. For Harry, flying laps around the pitch served as a painful reminder that it would be a whole year before he could try out for the Quidditch team.

It was as he was cruising around the goal posts on his final lap of the pitch that a rush of emotion struck him. With the wind brushing across his face and tousling his hair and the sun beaming down on him he found himself missing the flights around Godric's Hollow he would take with his father. They would race around the village and show off new tricks they had learned, all the while his mother would stand in the front yard and watch their distant forms dancing in the sky. When they landed his mother would fuss over him and try to flatten his hair. She would wrap him in a heavy cloak no matter what the weather was like outside and cook him a hot lunch once he was back inside.

The food at Hogwarts was good, but it couldn't compare to his mother home meals.

He brought his broom in for a landing in the area Madame Hooch had designated and dismounted.

"Good job, Potter," the old woman said, giving him a rough pat on the shoulder. "Return your broom to the broom closet and wait in the stands until the rest of the class finishes."

Harry did as he was told sullenly. He was alone in the stands for ten minutes before another student finished. Another ten minutes later and Neville was the last to cross the finish line. He had been unfortunate enough to be given a broom over a hundred years old; it vibrated constantly and was prone to violent fluctuations in altitude. When he landed his face was drained of all color and his grip on the broom was so tight he left indentations on the handle. Madame Hooch had to pry him off and drag him to the stands so he could sit with the rest of the students.

Madame Hooch congratulated them all on finishing their flying lesson and once again went over all the safety rules. Once she finished they were allowed to go back to the castle. Harry trailed behind his classmates as Ron made himself the center of attention by boasting about his meager flying skills. When they got to the castle dinner had just started and Harry's mood lightened just a bit when he saw they were serving pork chops, his favorite. He sat with his friends and piled up his plate, but after one bite he pushed it away. The pork chops didn't taste like his mother's.

"What's the matter, mate?" Ron asked.

"Nothing," Harry said.

**

* * *

**

Later that night, Harry found himself unable to sleep for the first time in his two weeks at Hogwarts. Things had been so hectic the first two weeks. He had to get used to the castle and it's unconventional architecture, he had to get used to classes, and he had to get used to all of the new people around him. He had thought that things would get better once everything had slowed down, but now that he had gotten used to life at Hogwarts, he was starting realize how much he missed his life at home.

Figuring that sleep wouldn't come, Harry got out of bed and walked down to the common room. Most of the candles along the walls had been put out and the fire in the fireplace had been reduced to just a few embers. He found a chair closest to the dying fire and sat. He hadn't brought any books or parchment with him, so he simply leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands.

He ached to write a letter to his mother, but he knew it was pointless. He knew he couldn't go back home and he knew that she couldn't come stay with him at Hogwarts – though he knew she would try. His next thought was to write to Dumbledore for advice, but he just as quickly banished that idea. Dumbledore was a busy man and he didn't have time for Harry's petty problems.

Harry felt as if heart was slowly sinking to his stomach. He was homesick and had no way to get home, and he had no one he could talk to about it. Ron and the rest of his dorm mates were getting along just fine and would probably think he was pathetic for missing home.

"Harry, are you all right?"

Harry raised his head from his hands and wiped at his eyes. He searched for the source of the voice and found Neville standing at the bottom of the staircase that led to the boy's dorms.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine, Neville," Harry said. "I just-er-I just couldn't sleep so I came down here to...sit."

"Oh," Neville said, apparently not hearing how lame Harry sounded. He stepped away from the staircase and approached Harry. "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

Harry shook his head and Neville took a seat in the armchair next to him. They sat together in silence for a minute before Harry decided to speak.

"Do you...miss your home, Neville?" he asked slowly.

Neville shrugged. "Not really. Mum and Dad are hardly ever at home, you know, always away on some important mission. Gran and Uncle Algie can be...a bit much a times. At least here I get to hang out with you and Ron. What about you?"

"I...I..." Harry ran a hand through his hair. No use in lying. "I do. I really do. I miss flying with my dad. I miss my mum's cooking. I miss sleeping in my own bed. I hate doing homework and I hate Professor Snape! I just...I really wish I could go home."

"Oh," Neville said.

"Not that I don't like being here with you guys," Harry said. "It's just..."

"I understand," Neville said with a nod, "I used to miss my parents a lot too, when they were away on missions, you know. After a while, I guess I just got used to it. I'm sure you'll get used to it too." He gave Harry an encouraging smile.

Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to get used to Hogwarts, but he returned Neville's smile anyway.

"I guess we should get back to bed," Harry said, figuring that staying up in the common room all night would do them no good.

It was just as he was starting up the stairs to the boys dormitories that Harry saw something at the other end of the common room, near the staircase to the girls' dormitories. He recognized the bushy brown mane of Hermione Granger as she darted up her own staircase. Had she been there the whole time? Had she seen his pathetic break down? Harry could only wonder as he climbed the stairs with Neville and they got back into their beds.

The next morning, Neville didn't mention his and Harry's late night talk. If Hermione Granger had been down in the common room that night she didn't say anything.

**

* * *

**

Another week passed and despite Harry's best attempts he was still finding it difficult to get used to life at Hogwarts. There were stretches of times where he was too bogged down with homework or too busy with his friends to miss home, but his homesickness never completely went away. It was always lurking just beneath the surface, brought up again and again by the slightest things.

Right now it was Dark Arts class that was making him miss home. In all three weeks since the start of term, they had only learned one spell in Dark Arts class and so far no one had come close to mastering it. Professor Rätsel had explained to them that this was normal, the Dark Arts were incredibly complex, especially for young people. Still, it frustrated Harry to no end to spend an hour a day practicing a spell with no results. It made him just want to give up and go home.

"_Ater Aduro!"_ Harry hissed, jabbing his wand at the small block of wood sitting on his desk. Nothing happened. He groaned and ran a hand through his hair.

"Calm down, mate," Ron said next to him, "It's not like you're the only one who doesn't get it."

"It's impossible," Harry said, glaring at the block of wood that refused to burn.

"Rätsel says you have to _mean _it," Neville said.

"Yeah, so maybe you should imagine Snape when you're casting the spell," Ron said with a chuckle.

Harry tried to smile, but he was afraid that Snape would somehow find out and dock him house points. Harry had tried to follow his mother's advice and stay away from the potion's master, but it had proved futile. When it came time for potions class, he sat at the back of the classroom and kept to himself, yet Snape still saw fit to ask him questions he didn't know the answer to and belittle him in front of the entire class. Worse was that the man always seemed to be around Harry at the most inopportune moments, ready to take away house points for the slightest infractions. Just that morning Harry had run into Snape as he was coming out of the bathroom and had been docked a house point for having forgotten to zip up his pants. Friday's had already become Harry's least favorite day of the week because that was when he had Potions class. Come Friday afternoon he was guaranteed to either be so humiliated that he would spend the rest of the day in bed or so angry that his friends wouldn't talk to him for fear of being snapped at.

Right now, his frustration with the spell had given way to anger as he couldn't get Snape's sneering face out of his mind. Figuring it wouldn't hurt to take Ron's advice, he raised his wand and superimposed Snape's face over the block of wood. He imagined the sneering visage burning in black flames and found the image satisfying.

"_Ater Aduro_!" he said with force, and nearly jumped out of his chair when a black spark struck his piece of wood.

"Wow!" Ron said. He reached over and grabbed Harry's block which was now sporting a large scorch mark.

"Potter!" Professor Rätsel barked from his desk at the head of the class. "Let me see what you've done."

Harry grabbed his block of wood from Ron and shuffled to the front of the class. He held out the piece of wood and the professor snatched it from him. The old German man put on a set of glasses and peered intently at the scorch mark. After a minute he grunted and shoved the wood back at Harry.

"It's a nice start."

Harry walked back to his seat and when he sat down he was accosted on all sides by his classmates asking him how he did it.

"I-er-I just focused," he said, disappointing them. Ron, however, just stared at him, his face painted with disbelief.

"You actually imagined Snape, didn't you?"

"No," Harry said, avoiding Ron's gaze.

Ron laughed. "I can't believe it actually worked. I wonder if it'll work for me," he focused on his piece of wood and gave it an intense glare. "_Ater Aduro!" _Nothing happened. He frowned.

"Maybe you don't hate Snape as much as Harry does?" Neville said.

"It'd be hard to hate Snape as much as Harry," Ron said.

"I don't-" Harry's lie was cut short as Professor Rätsel shouted.

"Granger! What are you doing?"

Hermione Granger, who was sitting in the row in front of Harry, was reading a book that didn't have anything to do with the Dark Arts. Her wood block had been pushed away and her wand was nowhere in sight.

"I'm reading, Professor," Hermione said, not looking up from her book.

"And why aren't you practicing your spell?" Rätsel asked, glaring so hard at the book in Hermione's hands that he could have lit it on fire.

"I don't see the need."

"And why is that?"

Hermione looked up from her book. "Because we already learned the _Incedio_ spell in Charms class. I don't see the need to waste so much time learning another fire spell."

Rätsel ground his teeth. "_Ater Aduro_ is not just another fire spell. While you can set something on fire with a silly little _Incendio_ spell, _Ater Aduro_ is much more powerful. It is a curse that creates an intense black flame that can only be put out by a counter-curse. If you had been paying attention you would know that already."

"And I don't see the need for such a powerful spell," Hermione said. "If I want to set something on fire I'll just use an _Incendio_ charm."

Rätsel glared at the girl and she responded with a look of nonchalance.

"Indeed," Rätsel hissed, "I suppose I'll just have to further educate you on the advantages of the _Ater Aduro_ curse. Detention, my office, tomorrow at seven. Class dismissed."

**

* * *

**

At lunchtime, Gryffindor table was all abuzz about Hermione's defiance during Dark Arts class. Who would have thought that Hermione Granger, the quiet bookworm who usually sat alone and spent most of her free time in the library, would stand up to a teacher like that? Especially over something so pointless as having to learn a redundant spell.

"That's muggleborns for you," Ron said, speaking above everyone else. "Completely nuts. Can't trust them."

"My mother's muggleborn," Harry said.

"Well, yeah, but she's the right type of muggleborn," Ron said as if it were obvious. "That Granger girl though, you can tell her type just by looking at her. I wouldn't be surprised if she starts cursing students in the halls."

Harry just went back to his lunch.

"You're just jealous that she's smarter than you," Seamus said with a grin.

"I don't care how smart she is," Ron said, "In fact, that just makes her weirder. How does a muggleborn know so much about magic?"

"Maybe she just studies a lot," Neville said.

Ron scoffed, "A good _excuse_."

"You really think she knows so much about magic because she wants to curse us all or something?" Dean asked, not bothering to look up from his food.

Harry only listened with half an ear as Ron rambled on about how he _did_, in fact, think Hermione knew so much about magic because she planned to kill them all. Harry couldn't care less. He absentmindedly pushed his food about his plate and it was just as he was about to give up on eating all together and head back to the common room alone that a piece of parchment fluttered to the table and landed right in front of him. Everyone around him was too busy to notice, so Harry unfolded the parchment and saw that there was a brief message written on it.

_Harry,_

_We haven't had a chance to really talk since term started. Would you like to meet me for tea after classes?_

_-Moony_

Harry looked up to the staff table and saw Professor Lupin grinning at him. With a smile Harry nodded and as he turned back to his lunch he couldn't help but feel silly. All this time he had wished for someone to talk to about how he had been feeling and he had completely forgotten about his Uncle Moony. He managed to finish the rest of his lunch and went to class with his friends, feeling better than he had all week.

**

* * *

**

After his last class, Harry split from his friends and made his way to Moony's office. He knocked once on the door and was immediately invited in. He opened the door and found his uncle sitting at his desk with a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits.

"Good afternoon, Harry," he said, "Have a seat."

"Good afternoon, Professor," Harry said with a polite nod.

Moony grinned. "Come now, outside of class there's no reason to be so formal."

Harry grinned back, "Hey, Moony."

"Now, that's more like it, Prongs Jr," Moony said as he poured Harry a cup of tea. Harry took the offered cup and took a sip. It was sweet, just how he liked it. "You should try one of the biscuits. The elves in the kitchen make the best biscuits."

Harry sputtered into his tea. "Elves? There are elves in the kitchens? I thought elves lived in forests and hated wizards?"

Moony nodded, "Yes, well some do. You'll learn about it in History of Magic, but back before the Empire elves were subservient to wizards. Then Emperor Grindelwald came along and convinced them to accept freedom."

"He had to _convince _them to be free?" Harry asked.

"The elves were very stubborn. Most of them had been conditioned to _like_ being servants. Once they were free they helped fight in the wars to establish the Empire, and after the wars they tried to go back and reclaim the traditions they had lost when wizards first enslaved them. Now, many elves dislike wizards, but some still work for them. They get paid now, of course."

"Oh," Harry said. If Professor Doge had taught that in class he had missed it.

"But I didn't invite you here to talk about elves," Moony said. "I noticed you weren't eating a lot at lunch today. And you haven't been very talkative during class. Is something wrong?"

Harry sighed and put down his teacup. "It's...I just really miss home, you know? I miss flying with my dad and I miss my mum's cooking and-"

Harry was cut off as Moony laughed. The man quickly cleared his throat and regained himself. "I'm sorry, it's just that..." he paused and seemed to consider his next words carefully. "Well, Harry, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but your mother's an awful cook."

"What?" Harry exclaimed.

"Okay, maybe awful is going too far, but she's really not that great," Moony said. "I imagine after eating almost nothing but your mother's cooking for eleven years you just need to get used to eating something different."

"But it's more than that," Harry said, disregarding the insult to his mother's cooking for now, "I hate going to classes. I hate doing homework. I hate greasy gits who pick on me for no reason! I just want to go home."

Harry sounded pathetic and he knew it, but he didn't care. This had been bottled up for a week and it felt good to let it out.

Moony reached over and placed his hand on Harry's arm. "Harry...everyone hates going to classes and doing homework. And everyone hates Professor Snape, though don't tell anyone I said that."

Harry smiled.

"The thing is, you have to find time to do something that makes you happy," Moony continued. "You said you miss flying with your father? Well, maybe you and your friends could go out flying around the castle grounds? I'm sure that would be fun and help you take your mind off things."

"But we're all first years," Harry mumbled. "We don't have brooms."

"The school has brooms."

"Yeah, but we're not allowed to ride those."

Once again, Moony let out a loud laugh, this one longer than before. Harry could only stare, dumbfounded.

"I'm sorry again," Moony said, wiping a tear from his eye, "It's just that you look so much like your father and to hear you say that it's just..."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

Moony leaned forward with a mischievous grin. "What I'm trying to say is that you are a Potter. Your family doesn't let the rules get in the way of having a little fun."

Harry looked at Moony questioningly before it dawned on him. "Are you telling me to steal the school's brooms?" he asked, his eyes wide in disbelief.

"I'm not _telling_ you to do anything," Moony said, still with that grin on his face, "But I do happen to know that the locks on the school's broom closets are very susceptible to a simple unlocking charm."

Harry's look of disbelief morphed into a smile. "It sounds like good idea."

Moony leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his tea, "What sounds like a good idea?" he asked.

Harry smiled even wider. "Nothing."

**

* * *

**

After his talk with Moony, Harry's spirits were higher than they had ever been during his first three weeks at Hogwarts. He was in such a good mood that even doing homework didn't bother him as much. He and his friends had secured a table in a quiet corner of the common room after dinner and had been diligently working on their assignments for the better part of an hour.

"Ugh!"

Harry looked up from the book he was reading to look across the table at Ron, who seemed to be in a staring match with a piece of parchment.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's this stupid History of the Empire homework," Ron groaned, running a hand through his hair, "How am I supposed to name all the countries that make up the Empire? There are hundreds of them!"

Harry frowned, "There aren't hundreds, Ron."

"Yeah, we went over it in class loads of times," Neville said from his spot next to Harry at the table. "How could you not know?"

"No one can stay awake in that class," Ron huffed, "Except for maybe that weird Granger girl."

"Do you have to bring her up in every conversation?" Dean asked, sounding annoyed.

Ron turned to glare at Dean and Harry could sense another of his rambling tirades about Hermione Granger coming on. He hadn't been able to drop the subject since lunch.

"Naming the countries isn't that hard, Ron," Harry said, hoping to take his friend's focus away from the muggleborn girl, "How many have you got so far?"

Ron huffed and crossed his arms, glaring at his paper again instead of answering. Seamus leaned over and inspected the parchment. What he saw made him chuckle.

"He's got Britain," Seamus said. "And Ireland, which is spelled wrong."

Ron glared at Seamus.

"What else?" Harry asked.

"France and Germany. Then I think he started to write Italy, but he crossed it out."

Harry wanted to laugh, but he kept it in so as not to make Ron angry with him. Dean didn't seem to care, though, and laughed heartily at Ron's expense, which caused Neville and Seamus to join in and then even Harry couldn't keep a smile off his face.

"Well, if it's so easy, why don't you lot do it!" Ron exclaimed, drawing the attention of some of the other Gryffindor's studying in the common room.

"You definitely shouldn't have crossed out Italy," Harry said, trying to sound as helpful as possible.

"And you forgot Spain and Portugal," Dean said.

"And Switzerland, Luxembourg, and the Netherlands," Harry added.

"And Poland," Neville continued.

"Plus all of those weird eastern countries that have names that are hard to pronounce," Seamus said, "Like Bulgaria."

"And Turkey," Neville said, "I remember my parents had to do work in Turkey for a long time."

"Really, you could just look in your book," Dean said with a smirk. "Since there's a map of the Empire in there."

Ron let his head fall to the table. "You could have just told me that to begin with," he groaned, his voice muffled by the table.

"Now where's the fun in that?" Seamus asked with a grin.

Ron groaned again and opened his book, eventually finding the map of the Empire in the glossary. He began jotting down the names of countries and the rest of the table went back to their own studies. It was only two minutes later that Ron let out another groan.

"What is it this time?" Harry asked, not even bothering to look up from his book.

"When was the Empire established?" Ron asked. It was the other boys' turn to groan, and they all leveled Ron with annoyed looks. "What?"

Harry sighed. "This sucks."

"You're telling me," Ron said.

"We should do something fun," Harry said with a grin.

"Like what?" Neville asked.

Harry looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear and leaned in to the center of the table. The rest of the boys followed his example.

"I was thinking," he said in a conspiratorial whisper, "That we should go out for a ride on the school's brooms."

"But we're not allowed to ride the school's brooms," Neville said, causing Harry to wince and signal for him to lower his voice. "I don't think we're even allowed to fly unsupervised," he continued in a whisper.

Harry grinned mischievously, "That's only a problem if someone finds out."

Ron mirrored Harry's grin. "I'm in. Anything to get me away from this homework."

"I'll do it if you guys are going to do it," Seamus said.

"Same here," Dean said.

Four pairs of eyes turned to Neville, who refused to meet their gaze. "I'm not much for flying, you know?" he said, stuttering. "Plus, I don't really trust the Hogwarts brooms."

"Oh come on, Neville!" Seamus said with a roll of his eyes. "You're supposed to be a _Gryffindor_. You know, bravery and courage and all that!"

"If it's all the same to you guys, I think I'll stay in," Neville said, refusing to meet their eyes, "I'll-I'll cover for you in case anyone notices you're gone."

Harry looked to the rest of his friends, who didn't seem to care whether or not Neville joined them, and shrugged. Together the four of them rose from their table and returned their books to their dormitory. Then, as casually as possible, they walked back down to the common room and made for the portrait hole. Just as Harry was clambering through the hole he took one last look back in the common room and saw Neville. The round faced boy was still sitting at the same table, alone, with his arms crossed and his gaze focused on the ground. Harry wanted to feel bad for leaving him behind, but he was too excited to feel sorry.

**

* * *

**

Moony couldn't have been more right. With the cool night air blowing in his face and the laughter of his friends echoing throughout the empty Quidditch pitch, Harry couldn't remember a time when he'd had so much fun. His friends weren't great fliers, but that actually made the experience more enjoyable as they were amused by even the simplest of tricks. He captivated them with barrel rolls, loops and figure eights and they begged him to teach them.

"Potter!" Seamus shouted after performing his first successful loop, "Can you do a Wronski Feint?"

Harry smiled, full of confidence. "Of course I can!"

He couldn't.

"You have to show us!" Ron exclaimed.

Harry shook his head. "It wouldn't be safe on these old brooms."

"Where's your Gryffindor spirit?" Dean asked with a chuckle.

Harry gulped. His mother had never given him permission to try the Wronski Feint, and as far as he knew his dad couldn't even do it. He certainly didn't feel safe trying it for the first time on such an old broom, but his Gryffindor spirit had been called into question and he couldn't just let that go, could he?

With another boastful smile, this one more unsteady than the last, Harry said, "Okay, I'll do it just once to show you!"

His friends cheered and he turned to look at the ground, which was quite far away. No use going back now. Swallowing to make sure he didn't upchuck his dinner, he tightened his grip on the knotted handle of the Hogwarts broom that had to be at least twenty years old. With one last look to his friends, who all bore huge, encouraging smiles, he pointed his broom towards the ground and dived.

The sudden rush nearly knocked him off his broom. He clamped his legs hard around the broom and gripped the handle so hard he was afraid his hands might start to bleed. His glasses were whipped off by the air rushing past his face; the air stung his eyes and caused them to water making the approaching ground seem even blurrier. The wind rushing past his ears was so loud that it was all he could hear. He was diving so fast, much faster than he thought the rickety old broom capable of, yet the ground seemed to be approaching at a snail's pace. His heart was pounding against against his ribcage, but he wasn't scared. He was smiling so wide that he was afraid he would catch bugs in his teeth. He tried to open his mouth to shout, but he couldn't hear it for all the wind rushing through his ears.

Suddenly, the ground was upon him and he yanked up on his broom's handle with all his might. He pulled up just in time for his toes to graze the grass of the pitch. He brought his broom to a stop and hovered a foot above the ground. He was frozen in place for a moment as what he had just did, what he had just experienced, caught up with him. His face was flushed with heat, he was smiling wider than he thought humanly possible, and he felt _great._ He threw his head back and let out a terrific howl of joy. He became aware of his surroundings after that. His friends were cheering and laughing and were descending on him with awe written all over their faces. Harry smiled up at them, but their adulation was cut short as Harry felt a presence behind him. He spun around on his broom quickly and what he saw killed all the joy he had just been feeling. Standing tall with her her arms crossed and a very angry look no her face was Professor McGonagall.

With her gaze firmly leveled at Harry, she said, "Very impressive, Mister Potter."

But she didn't sound very impressed at all.

**

* * *

**

"I'm so sorry, Professor."

"You've said that already, Mister Potter."

"I really am," Harry said.

McGonagall's stern glare let him know that he was done talking. She had brought the four boys up to her office and now they were desperately trying to avoid expulsion. At least Harry was, the other boy's were too scared to speak.

"It's all my fault Professor," Harry said, despite how futile his pleading had proven to be, "It was all my idea. The others shouldn't be expelled for something stupid I did."

"He's right!" Ron said, "It was all his idea!"

McGonagall turned her glare on Ron and he instantly closed his mouth and returned to staring at the floor.

"I believe you are all mature young wizards capable of making your own decisions," McGonagall said, "Am I mistaken?"

"No ma'am," the four boys chorused.

"Then you are all responsible for your behavior," she continued. Harry dropped his head into his hands. His friends would hate him forever if they were expelled because of him. "Therefore, I am deducting five house points. From each of you."

Harry snapped his head up and tried not to smile. They weren't getting expelled?

Ron counted on his fingers. "That's...that's twenty house points!" he said. "You can't deduct that many points all at once! It's not fair!"

"Mr. Weasley!" it was the closest Harry had ever heard McGonagall come to shouting, "You were just worried that you would be expelled, surely you're not trying to complain?"

Ron hung his head again, "No, ma'am."

"I thought not," McGongagall continued in her normal tone, "All four of you will also be serving detention with me tomorrow."

Ron had nothing to say this time.

"And I will be contacting your parents."

Harry's heart stopped beating. He could deal with the loss of house points and detention, but now his mother was going to find out?

"Professor, please..." he said, but a stern look from McGonagall made it clear she would have none of it.

"Now, I will escort you to your dormitories and I expect you to go straight to bed, understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

She ushered them out of her office and walked them back to the common room. The boys kept their heads down and didn't speak, each of them reflecting on what they had done wrong. Harry couldn't speak for the other boys, but as he looked back on the night he couldn't think of it as anything other than a success. He'd had fun and he'd managed to pull off a Wronski Feint and showed off in front of his friends. Getting caught had been bad and the letter he was going to receive from his mother would be worse, but even with all of that he was already wondering if he would be able to convince his friends to do it with him again.

When they arrived at the portrait of the fat lady, McGonagall let Ron, Seamus and Dean into the common room, but held up her hand as Harry began to enter the portrait hole.

"Wait out here for me, Mister Potter," she said. She climbed into the hole after the first three boys, and Harry caught a sympathetic look from Ron as the portrait swung close. Alone, Harry began to grow nervous. Why had she left him out of the common room? Maybe she really was going to expel him and wanted to do it away from his friends. The night didn't feel like a success anymore.

When the portrait swung open again, McGonagall climbed out, but she wasn't alone. Another boy, an older boy Harry had seen around, climbed out with her.

"Mister Potter, this is Oliver Wood," McGonagall said. Harry shook hands with Wood, and by the look he received Wood didn't know what was going on either. "Wood," McGonagall continued, "I think I've found you a new Seeker."

**

* * *

**

Harry walked up the stairs to his room slowly, his mind still processing what had just happened. When he finally got to his room, he found his four roommates sitting on their beds with their lamps still lit. All four of them had worried expressions on their faces.

"Harry, what happened?" Ron asked. "She didn't expel you did she?"

Harry shook his head and walked over his bed. He plopped down and stared at the floor.

"She didn't kick you out of Gryffindor did she?" Seamus asked.

Harry shook his head.

"What did she do?" Neville asked, sounding as if he didn't want to know.

"She...she introduced me to the Quidditch captain, Oliver Wood."

His friends were dumbfounded. Harry knew he should just tell them, but he was still trying to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

"The Quidditch captain?" Dean asked, looking confused at first and then worried again, "Oh no, he's not angry at you for breaking into the broom closet, is he?"

Harry shook his head, "He...wants me to join the team."

Silence, and then, "What!"

"McGonagall told him about my Wrosnski Feint," Harry said, "She said she would love to see me pull off a move like that in a real Quidditch match. Wood, he said that if I really could do a Wronski Feint that I would be guaranteed a spot on the team. They want me to be the team's new Seeker."

"You have to be joking," Ron said.

Harry smiled. "He wants me up at 6 am for a tryout."

"You have got to be joking!"

Seamus laughed. Long and hard and loud. "You're something else, Potter," he said when he stopped, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, "You break the rules and you're made Seeker on the Quidditch team? You're really something else."

"I'm not joking," Harry said.

Seamus laughed again. "I know!" he said, barely able to stop laughing, "That's what makes it so funny!"

Harry watched as the Irish boy feel back onto his bed and shook with uncontrollable laughter and he couldn't help it, he started laughing too. Dean joined in, then Neville and finally Ron. The laughter seemed to last for ages. They stayed up late into the night; talking about Quidditch, talking about classes and talking about the adventure they'd had that night. By the time they finally went to sleep, they decided that they definitely needed to sneak out and have some real fun again, no matter how many house points or detentions it cost them. The first time they broke the rules, Harry was awarded with a position on the Quidditch team. They couldn't even begin to imagine what would happen next time.

**

* * *

**

Harry walked into the Great Hall in a daze. His hair and clothes were windswept, his glasses were askew, but he didn't care. He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that it was a wonder he was able to walk without tripping over his feet. He just couldn't believe what had just happened. Oliver Wood had appointed him Seeker of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. It hadn't been an easy process. He'd been only half awake after staying up most of the night talking with his friends, but somehow he had done it. Wood had made him perform the Wronski Feint twice, once just to make sure he could do it and again because he just wanted to see it again. Another hour of drills after that and Wood decided to make it official.

"Harry!"

Harry snapped out of his daze as someone called his name. It was Neville. In his stupor Harry had walked right past where his friends were sitting. They all looked at him expectantly. Harry made his way to them, trying his best to look nonchalant.

"How'd it go?" Ron asked as Harry sat down.

Harry's answer was a quick thumbs up, which caused all four of his friends to cheer, drawing the attention of the rest of the Great Hall.

"Keep it down!" Harry whispered, "Wood wants to keep it a secret until the first game of the season."

Understanding dawned in his friends' eyes, and they all quieted down.

"Those Slytherins won't know what hit them," Seamus said with a wicked grin.

A piece of parchment fluttered to the table and landed in front of Harry. Ignoring his friends' questioning looks, he opened the piece of parchment and read its brief message.

_Congratulations._

_-Moony_

With a grin Harry turned to the High Table and saw Moony grinning back at him. McGonagall, who was sitting next to Moony, had the faintest hint of a smile on her face as well.

"Whats it say?" Dean asked.

"It's not important," Harry said, stuffing the letter in his pocket. "Come on, we can talk about Qudditch later. Let's eat."

As Harry dug into his breakfast, he couldn't help but be amazed at the fact that just yesterday he had wanted nothing more than to go back home. Now, he had his friends, and he had Qudditch and not even Professor Snape could put him in a bad mood.


	4. Chapter 4

Book I

Chapter 4

The Marauder's Map

Harry's life at Hogwarts developed a comfortable routine after his acceptance onto the Quidditch team. Classes and homework took up a lot of his time, and when he wasn't busy with those he was out getting into trouble with his friends or serving detentions for getting into trouble with his friends. He had lost more house points than he cared to remember and spent more time in McGongall's office than the library. On top of that he still had Quidditch practice, which wasn't as fun as he'd thought it would be. Wood made them practice at ungodly hours of the morning for hours on end. As the Quidditch season neared the practices only got more intense. Harry figured it wouldn't be so bad if he could at least get some recognition, but Wood was determined to keep him a secret. Since no one even knew he was on the team he didn't get the same respect from his housemates that the other players did.

His mother continued to write him a letter everyday. She checked up on him to make sure he hadn't hurt himself in Qudditch practice and also to chastise for his latest trouble making venture. Sometimes his father would add postscripts in invisible ink encouraging him to stay the course.

All in all, the month of October passed in a blur and before Harry knew it it was almost Halloween.

**

* * *

**

"_Ater Aduro!"_

Harry watched as black flames leapt from his wand and attacked the small wooden block before him. There was no noise, no smoke, no smell of burning wood but in a matter of seconds the wood had burned down into nothing but ashes. It's job done, the black flames dissipated and left no sign they had ever existed. The desk on which Harry's block of wood had sat was completely unharmed by the curse. Harry looked up from the pile of ashes on the desk to Professor Rätsel, who regarded him with his usual stoicism.

"Potter," Rätsel said, dragging out every syllable, "Since the start of term you are the only student to master the _Ater Aduro _curse."

Harry nodded as a nervous weight began to settle in his chest. It was hard to for to judge Rätsel's emotions and he couldn't shake the feeling that the German professor was angry at him. Maybe he suspected Harry of cheating? But, how could you cheat at a curse? And why would Rätsel ask Harry to perform the curse in front of the class if he suspected him of cheating?

Rätsel continued to stare at Harry as if sizing him up. The entire class was silent and Harry wished someone would say something. Then Rätsel did something that made Harry feel even more uneasy, he smiled. It was a small twist of the lips, barely noticeable, but it was the first time Harry had seen the man smile and it looked foreign on his face. Rätsel probably intended for it to be a soothing gesture, but it made him look like a hungry wolf staring at a piece of fresh meat.

"Good job, Potter," Rätsel said, clapping his wrinkled hands together. The rest of the class joined in, some more enthusiastic than others.

"Take a bow!" Seamus shouted, clapping the loudest of them all. The large grin on his face let Harry know he was joking, but it still caused a blush to rise in his cheeks. A glare from Rätsel silenced Seamus and the rest of the class.

"You could all learn something from Potter," Rätsel said. He turned to Harry, still bearing that awkward smile. "Would you like to share your secret with the class, Potter?"

"I-er-I just concentrated really hard, sir," Harry said. The truth was that every time he cast _Ater Adur_ohe imagined his least favorite professor, Snape, and the black flames seemed to leap out of his wand of their own volition.

"Of course," Rätsel said, and there was a knowing twinkle in his beady black eyes, "Return to your desk and open your book to page fifty-three. Begin reading about the _Ater Aduro_ counter-curse. The rest of you continue to practice your curses!"

Harry nodded and made his way back to his desk. Many of his classmates ignored him as he walked back to his desk, preferring to practice their curses, but one of his classmates seemed to be very interested in him. It was Hermione Granger and she was giving him a glare so intense that he was afraid she was about to cast _Ater Aduro_ on him. He avoided her glare as he sat down and tried to wrap his mind around why she would be so angry with him.

Jealously because he had mastered the curse and she hadn't? That couldn't be right because ever since her first outburst in Dark Arts class she had refused to practice the spell. Everyday she would come to class and do nothing and everyday Rätsel would give her detention for it. She was coming close to breaking the Weasley Twins' record of consecutive detentions, though the Twins were quick to point out that their detentions had been accrued through multiple professors.

Rätsel had explained to them during their first class period that there were still some who saw the Dark Arts as evil. Maybe Granger was one of those people, but that still didn't explain why she was so angry with him. They were in a classroom filled with students trying to master the spell, it didn't make sense for her to be so angry with him just because he was the first to master it. Maybe the girl really was nuts, as Ron had often tried to convince him.

Harry cautioned a look over his shoulder and saw that the whole time he'd spent trying to figure out why Granger was mad at him, she'd been glaring at the back of his head.

"What's wrong, mate?" Ron asked, causing Harry to almost fall out of his chair.

Harry shook his head free of thoughts about the girl. "Nothing," he said, "Just...hungry."

Ron nodded. "Me too. These Dark Arts spells really take a lot out of you, huh?"

Harry just nodded. It was true. Dark Arts spells could be physically taxing, and he thought it would be best not to tell his friend about the look Granger had given him. Ron didn't need another excuse to hate her. When class ended, Harry gathered up his things and prepared to head to the Great Hall for lunch, but Rätsel called his name.

"Potter," he said, "Stay after class, I need to speak with you."

Harry turned to his friends and gestured for them to go on without him. He waited until the class had emptied out before approaching Rätsel's desk.

"What is it, sir?" he asked, feeling a bit nervous.

"I thought it prudent to remind you that while you have made great progress, you have not mastered _Ater Aduro_ yet," Rätsel said.

Harry fronwed. Had he not just set a block of wood on fire? "What do you mean, sir?"

"I mean there is more to the curse than setting small blocks of wood on fire," Rätsel said, and Harry found himself wondering if the man could read minds. "You'll need to continue practicing the spell if you want to get better. You'll need to practice on … bigger objects."

"You mean bigger blocks of wood, sir?"

Rätsel seemed to hesitate for a moment before nodding. "Yes," he said slowly, "Bigger blocks of wood."

"Okay, sir, I'll do that," Harry said, not entirely sure where he was going to find an ample supply of wood to burn.

"Good. You may go now, Potter."

Harry turned to leave, but froze when he heard Rätsel yell.

"Granger! What are you still doing here?"

Harry turned around and sure enough Hermione Granger was still sitting at her desk with her arms crossed. How had he not noticed her before?

"I was waiting for you to tell me about my detention, Professor," Granger said, her voice icy, "Or am I off the hook today?"

Rätsel sneered, "Your detention will be at the the same time and place as it is everyday. I figured you were smart enough to know that by now."

"My apologies, Professor," Granger said, but she obviously didn't mean it. She gathered her things and made her way out of the classroom, pushing past Harry as she did so.

Rätsel's sneer followed the girl all the way out the classroom and even once she was gone he continued to sneer at the empty doorway.

"You were dismissed, Potter." Rätsel said without looking at Harry.

Harry left the classroom and found Granger in the hallway waiting for him. Once again she had that hateful glare directed at him. Harry knew his best option was to ignore the girl, but he just couldn't let it go. First she had glared at him in class, then she had pushed him on her way out the door, now she was waiting for him in the hallway and for what? Just so she could glare at him some more?

"Do we have a problem?" Harry asked, trying to sound imposing.

Granger continued to glare at him. She almost looked like she was sizing him up. Harry's hand slowly drifted to the pocket where he kept his wand. He'd never dueled a girl before. He'd never dueled anyone before, and he was starting to wish he'd just ignored her.

"Yes," Granger said coldly, "We do have a problem."

And then she spun on her heel and marched down the hallway, not towards the Great Hall but toward the Gryffindor common room. When she was gone Harry let out a deep sigh and ran a hand through his hair.

"Girl troubles, lad?" One of the portraits hanging on the wall asked in an amused tone.

Harry just shook his head, turned and made for the Great Hall.

**

* * *

**

"She tried to attack you?" Ron exclaimed, causing half the Great Hall to look his way.

Harry shook his head and sighed. He knew that telling Ron was a bad idea, but he'd done it anyway. "No," he said, trying to hide the exasperation in his voice, "But she was waiting for me after class with a mean look on her face, and apparently she's got a problem with me."

"She's a nutter," Ron said, sounding triumphant.

Dean rolled his eyes. "We know Ron, you've only been telling us that for the past month."

"Because it's true!" Ron said, "She always eats alone, she never talks to anyone, she gets detention everyday because she refuses to even try in class, and now she's giving Harry the evil eye. She _has _to be nuts."

"She's not nuts," Harry said, though he wasn't sure if he believed it himself, "I didn't tell you about this so you could make a big deal out of it, so let's just drop it and talk about something else."

"Fine," Ron said, "So what did Rätsel want to talk to you about anyway?"

"He just told me to keep practicing," Harry said.

"Keep practicing?" Seamus asked. "What for? If anything you should be helping the rest of us."

Harry shrugged. "There's not much I can do to help you guys. I already told you my 'secret'."

"Then you just have to teach us how to hate Professor Snape as much as you," Dean said with a smile.

Harry's eyes widened. "Don't say that so loud," he whispered, and his four friends laughed.

"What? Are you afraid he'll hear you?" Ron asked.

Harry turned to the High Table and was relieved to find that Snape wasn't looking his way. "Yes," he said, "I _am_ afraid he'll hear. He already hates me enough, I don't want to make things any worse."

The boys laughed some more, except for Neville. "I tried to picture Professor Snape," he said, "but I don't really hate him. I'm just afraid of him."

That caused everyone to laugh some more, even Harry.

"Weasley, Potter!" someone shouted, interrupting their good time.

Both Harry and Ron turned and saw Draco Malfoy approaching their table, flanked on either side by his cronies Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy didn't look very happy.

"I need to speak to you two," he said. When Harry and Ron didn't move he added, "In private."

Harry looked to Ron, who merely shrugged. Together, the two of them stood up and followed Malfoy out into the Entrance Hall. Students were passing in and out of the Entrance Hall, but it was mostly empty. Malfoy lead them to a statue of armor near the main staircase.

"What's this all about, Malfoy?" Ron asked.

"Your brother," Malfoy spat. "The git docked me twenty house points and gave me a weeks worth of detentions with Flich."

"For what?" Harry asked.

Malfoy sneered. "That's not important. What is important is that I get back at him, and I want you two to help me."

Harry didn't like the sound of that. He barely knew Malfoy, but he knew enough to know that if Percy had saw fit to punish him that severely he had probably done something to deserve it. Malfoy was a bully who liked to use his large friends Crabbe and Goyle to abuse weak students. Harry imagined that if he wasn't friends with Ron, Malfoy probably would have picked on him as well.

"You want me to help you get back at my own brother?" Ron asked.

"I know you don't like him anymore than I do," Malfoy said. "Plus I know you Gryffindor's are always getting into trouble. Slytherin's are usually against such stupid behavior, which is why I've got to recruit you dopes."

Harry frowned. He certainly didn't like being called a dope or having his House insulted. Ron didn't seem to care, so Harry decided not to say anything.

"What do you have in mind?" Ron asked with a mischievous grin.

Malfoy responded with a grin of his own. "Crabbe here," he said, jerking his thumb towards his bodyguard, "Overheard one of the Slytherin Prefects talking. Turns out Prefect's have their own private bathroom on the fifth floor. I was thinking we could break in there and wreck up the place."

Harry's frown deepened. He had broken the rules with his friends plenty of times, but he did it for fun not for petty revenge like Malfoy was suggesting. However, his protests died before he could voice them when he saw Ron's smile widen.

"Sounds like a great idea," Ron said. He turned his enthusiasm on Harry, who responded with a weak smile.

"Good," Malfoy said, "When should we do this?"

"Tonight," Ron said, "Harry and I have Astronomy. We can sneak off after class and meet you on the fifth floor."

"Excellent," Malfoy said, clapping his hands together and licking his lips in a way that creeped Harry out.

"Get to class boys," Professor McGongall ordered as she swept into the Entrance Hall. She gave Harry and Ron piercing looks, "I don't want to see either of you in my office any time soon, understood?"

"Yes, Professor," they chorused. They separated from Malfoy, who gave them a not so subtle nod of the head, and made for the doors to the grounds.

"Ms. Granger," McGongall said, causing Harry and Ron to turn around. Hermione Granger had been sitting on the main staircase reading a book, not too far from where they had been discussing their plans with Malfoy. "I would like to see you in my office," McGonagall continued.

"I've got Herbology in just a few minutes, Professor," Hermione said, putting away the book she had been reading.

"Then after class."

"Yes, Professor."

McGonagall nodded and made her way up the stairs. Granger walked past Harry and Ron, this time instead of glaring at Harry she pointedly ignored him. Ron, however, glared at her.

"Do you think she heard?" Harry asked after Granger had walked out through the entrance doors.

Ron shook his head. "She couldn't have. She was too far away. We weren't talking very loudly."

"Maybe we should call the whole thing off just to be sure," Harry said, hoping Ron would agree so he wouldn't have to spend any more time with Malfoy than was absolutely necessary.

"If she had heard us she would have told McGonagall right then and there," Ron said, "We've got nothing to worry about."

Ron's point made sense, but Harry still didn't like it. Even if their little plan hadn't been compromised by Hermione Granger, he still didn't like or trust Malfoy. Of course, he didn't tell Ron that.

"If you say so," was all he said, and the two of them walked to Herbology class together.

**

* * *

**

Astronomy class had been long. They had been studying the phases of the moon or something else that Harry didn't understand the importance of. Even if he had been interested in whatever Professor Sinistra had been trying to teach, he wouldn't have been able to focus. His mind was too caught up in the 'adventure' he and Ron had planned with Malfoy. Specifically, all the ways it could go wrong. Sneaking out at night to have some fun with your friends was one thing, but Harry couldn't imagine McGonagall being lenient if they snuck out to wreck the Prefects bathroom. Not that she was ever lenient to begin with.

Ron still didn't understand Harry's worries and now it was too late for Harry to voice them. Astronomy class had come to an end just after midnight and the entire group of first year Gryffindor's were being escorted from the Astronomy Tower back to the Gryffindor common room by Professor Sinistra. The whole point of the escort was so students wouldn't wonder off and roam the castle so late at night, but Harry and Ron were prepared.

They'd told Neville, Seamus and Dean about their plans and their three friends were nice enough to help them out. They worked together to distract Sinistra while Harry and Ron slunk to the back of the group. When they were sure no one was looking, they broke away from the group and darted into a side passage. They waited and listened to make sure their absence had gone unnoticed.

"Alright, let's go," Ron whispered.

As silently as possible, they made their trek through the castle to the fifth floor. As they descended the stairway from the sixth floor to the fifth, it occurred to Harry that Malfoy hadn't told them where on the fifth floor the Prefects bathroom was.

"Did Malfoy tell you where the Prefects bathroom was?" he asked as they reached the fifth floor corridor.

Ron scratched the back of his head as he looked up and down the fifth floor corridor. There was no sign of Malfoy or his cronies. "Um...No," he said.

"You don't think he was just setting us up, do you?" Harry asked, already a pit was forming in his stomach and he wanted to go back upstairs to the Gryffindor common room before things got worse.

"Malfoy wouldn't do that." Ron said. He craned his head around, looking for any signs of the Slytherin boy. "I think I hear voices this way. Come on."

Ron lead the way and Harry followed, and indeed there were voices coming from the other end of the hall. However, the closer they got it became apparent that those voices didn't belong to the Slytherins.

"You sure they're going to be here?" asked the gravelly voice of Filch.

Harry and Ron froze.

"I was told they'd be here," said the posh voice of Percy Weasley.

Two figures appeared at the end of the hallway and Harry's fears were confirmed. Argus Filch stood with a lamp in his hand and Mrs. Norris at his feet; Percy Weasley was standing next to him.

"Ron!" Percy shouted, but Ron had already turned tail and ran back down the corridor; Harry wasn't too far behind him. Percy didn't plan on letting them get away though. He chased after them, his longer legs easily making up for their head start.

They reached the main stairs and Ron made to go up but Harry grabbed him and dragged him down the stairs, figuring it would do no good to run straight for Gryffindor tower with Percy right behind them. They jumped down the stairs three at a time and just as they reached the fourth floor landing Ron lost his footing and fell. Harry picked him up and dragged him to a nearby tapestry.

"Stop running!" Percy shouted. Harry was glad to hear that the Prefect was still some distance behind them.

Behind the tapestry was a narrow set of rickety stairs. Ron and Harry haphazardly made their way down and burst through the tapestry on the other end out into an empty hallway.

"We should...split up." Ron said, breathing heavily.

Harry didn't' think that was a good idea, but before he could protest Ron was already belting down the hallway alone. With a mumbled curse under his breath Harry ran in the opposite direction and ducked behind another tapestry. Unfortunately for him, this tapestry didn't lead to a secret passage, it just covered up an alcove in the wall. Getting out from behind the tapestry wasn't an option as he heard footsteps in the corridor.

"Ron! Harry!" Percy said, panting. When he got no answer the Prefect started running again in the same direction that Ron had gone.

Just when Harry was beginning to think it was safe, another set of footsteps entered the hallway. The person was wheezing hard.

"Which way did they go, Mrs. Norris?"

Harry's blood froze. Would Mrs. Norris be able to find him? His entire body tensed as Flich's heavy footsteps approached the tapestry he was hiding behind. A moment passed where Harry didn't dare to breathe, and finally Filch plodded in another direction. When the caretaker and his cat were gone, Harry let out the breath he had been holding.

And then he heard two more voices.

"Why would he hide it in the school?" one voice asked, and Harry instantly recognized it as the slimy voice of Professor Snape.

"Why does the man do anything, Severus?" the other voice answered, and the raspy, high-pitched tone made it clear it was Headmaster Riddle. "He thinks he's smarter than everyone else. He no doubt thought it was very clever to hide it right under my nose."

"When could he have done it?" Snape asked. Their voices were getting closer. "I saw him leave myself right after the Welcoming Feast, and he hasn't been in the castle since."

"I'm perplexed by it myself."

The two men's footsteps came to a stop right outside the tapestry. Harry held his breath.

"No matter, I'm sure the thing will be easy enough to find. There's only so many-"

"Just a moment, Severus," Riddle interrupted and suddenly the tapestry was thrown aside. Harry pressed his back against the wall, hoping it would swallow him. As Headmaster Riddle loomed over him, he realized just how tall the Headmaster was.

"Potter," Snape said.

"_Mr. _Potter," Headmaster Riddle hissed, "Would you like to explain why you are out of bed after hours?"

Harry looked to his feet. "I-er-I got lost, sir. On the way back from the Astronomy Tower."

Riddle's hand clamped around Harry's jaw and forced him to look up. Harry had no choice but to stare into his blank white mask. "Do not lie to me, Mr. Potter."

"I snuck away from my group, sir. I just...I thought it would be fun."

"If Potter's here then Weasley and the rest of his gang probably aren't very far," Snape said.

"Are you alone tonight, Mr. Potter?" Riddle asked. Before Harry could answer, Riddle squeezed his jaw so tight he couldn't speak. "I would like to remind you that you are already in trouble for sneaking out after hours, and you've already tried to lie to me once. Do not try again."

The fingers constricting his jaw relaxed. "Ron was with me," Harry said, feeling terrible for ratting out his friend, "But I don't know where he went."

Riddle's mask hovered over Harry for a moment before he released his grip on the boy's jaw. Harry rubbed his sore jaw. Riddle turned to Snape.

"I think a weeks worth of detention is enough, don't you Severus?" he asked.

"Personally, I'd have him expelled, Headmaster," Snape said with a sneer in Harry's direction.

"Then two weeks then," Riddle said, "And fifty house points."

Harry wanted to protest, but he knew it would be useless.

"Escort him back to his dormitories, Severus. I'll find the Weasley boy myself."

Snape motioned for Harry to follow him while Riddle walked down the hallway in the same direction Harry had seen Ron go. Harry silently followed Snape to Gryffindor Tower, making sure to keep his distance the whole way. He glumly gave the Fat Lady the password and crawled through the portrait hole.

"I expect you in the dungeons at seven, Potter," Snape said once Harry was on the other side of the portrait.

"For what, sir?"

"For your detentions, of course."

The portrait swung close and Harry's heart fell to his feet. It hadn't occurred to him that he'd have to serve his detentions with Snape. He walked into the common room with his head hung and found Ron waiting for him in one of the armchairs by the fire.

"What happened to you?" Ron asked.

Harry plopped into a chair. "Managed to ditch Percy and Filch. Then Snape and Riddle caught me."

Ron's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "What'd they do to you?"

"Riddle docked me fifty house points and set me up with two weeks worth of detention with Snape."

"Fifty?" Ron groaned. "We'll never win the House Cup at this rate."

Winning the House Cup was the least of Harry's worries now. "I told Riddle you were out there with me. He said he was going to find you. Guess he's not going to now."

Ron let out a sigh of relief. "Good thing too. If we lost 100 points in one night..."

"Yeah..." Harry said. He stared into the fireplace and reflected on his fate. Two weeks of detention with Snape. He wasn't sure if he could survive something like that. He wasn't sure if he wanted to survive something like that. Suddenly, he remembered why he was in this mess. "I guess Malfoy set us up," he said, trying to keep the 'I told you so' out of his voice.

Ron shook his head, "Draco wouldn't do that. It must have been someone else."

"Who else could have done it?"

Ron thought for a minute and his face morphed into a grimace, though there was a hint of triumph in his eyes."Granger," he said.

Harry buried his face in his palms. Of course, it was Granger, it made the most sense. He was actually disappointed. At least if it had been Malfoy he would have had a reason to never talk to him again.

"What's the matter?" Ron asked.

"Nothing," Harry said. He let out a deep sigh, "Let's just go to bed. I'm ready for this night be over." Then he stood up and made for the boy's staircase.

"Are you all right?" Ron asked.

"No."

**

* * *

**

At breakfast the next morning Harry was feeling a little better about his fate. Or at least he was trying to. He kept telling himself that detention with Snape couldn't be _that _bad, but even he didn't believe himself.

"Cheer up, mate," Seamus said, "It's Halloween!"

Harry grimaced, "You'll have to excuse me if I don't get in the holiday spirit."

"Come on, detentions with Snape can't be any worse than detentions with McGongall," Seamus said.

"McGonagall doesn't hate my guts," Harry said.

Seamus laughed.

"That was real bad luck, Harry," Neville said, "What were Headmaster Riddle and Professor Snape doing walking the halls at that time of night?"

Harry suddenly remembered the conversation Snape and Riddle had been having. He had forgotten all about it in his depression.

"They were talking about something hidden in the castle."

"You didn't tell me that," Ron said, "What's hidden in the castle?"

Harry shrugged. "I didn't hear them say. They said it was hidden the night of the Welcoming Feast. Riddle didn't sound too happy about it."

"If someone wanted to hide something from the Headmaster, why would they hide it in the castle?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, who would be stupid enough to do something like that?" Seamus asked.

The five boys lapsed into thought, each of them trying to think of what could be hidden in the castle and why it would be hidden. Together, the five of them all came to the same conclusion, but it was Ron who first voiced it.

"We should find it."

Harry nodded slowly. "I think it could be fun."

"And Riddle would probably give us a hundred house points if we found it," Seamus said. "That would make up for all the points we've lost already."

"But we don't even know what _it_ is," Dean said.

"Or where to start looking for it," Neville said, "The castle's a big place. If Headmaster Riddle can't find it what makes you think we can?"

Smiling, Ron said, "I think I might know someone who can-"

"Potter! Weasley!"

Harry and Ron turned to see Draco Malfoy and his two cronies, and they didn't look happy.

"Come with me," the Slytherin said.

They stood up and followed the angry Malfoy out into the Entrance Hall. This time, Harry made sure there wasn't anyone eavesdropping. Once they'd stepped away from the Great Hall's doors, Malfoy spun around and leveled them with an accusatory glare.

"You sold us out," he hissed. Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles in an attempt at intimidation.

"It's not like that," Ron said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture.

"Then tell me how it is, Weasley," Malfoy said.

"It was Granger. She was sitting right there yesterday while we were talking. She must have heard us and warned Percy."

"It's true," Harry said.

Malfoy took a step back and crossed his arms. "Granger? That mudblood?" he spat.

Harry flinched at the derogatory term.

"You don't even know the half of it," Ron said. "She crazy. Shes got it out for Harry and me."

Malfoy scowled. "So what do you plan do about her? Because of her your git of a brother took ten house points from the three of us and now we've got more detention with Filch."

Harry frowned. Malfoy had gotten off easy compared to what he'd got. Though he imagined the Slytherin wouldn't mind serving two weeks of detention with Snape as much as he did.

"We'll take care of her," Ron said. He turned to Harry, "Right?"

"Er...yeah." Harry said, though he had no idea what Ron had in mind.

"You'd better," Malfoy said. He motioned to his two bodyguards and the three of them stalked away.

Harry turned to Ron. "What do you mean, 'we'll take care of her'?"

"We'll figure out a way to get back at her later. Now, let's get back to breakfast, I'm still hungry."

**

* * *

**

Ron spent all of Transfiguration class glaring at the back of Hermione Granger's bushy brown head. During Dark Arts class he managed to make significant improvements with his _Ater Aduro_ curse. When Harry asked him how he'd done it, he rather loudly proclaimed that all he'd had to do was picture Granger. If Granger heard him she had no reaction.

**

* * *

**

Harry's bad mood returned in full force by dinner that night, and even the festivities of the Halloween Feast couldn't bring him out of his funk. The Great Hall was decorated in orange, yellow and black and the tables were laden with all sorts of Halloween treats, but all Harry could think of was his detention with Snape which was taking place in a mere half an hour.

"Come on, Harry," Neville said, "It can't be that bad."

"You've said that already." Harry muttered, staring at the plate of food before him. Indeed his friends had spent the entire day trying to convince him that detentions with Snape wouldn't be bad. Harry remained unconvinced.

"Harry," Ron whispered and Harry looked up at him, wondering what words of encouragement he had to offer. Instead, Ron tried to surreptitiously tilt his head toward the entrance of the Great Hall where Hermione Granger was leaving the Great Hall alone.

Harry sighed, "What about her?" he asked, making it clear by his tone he wasn't in the mode to deal with any of Ron's muggleborn conspiracy theories.

"We promised Malfoy we'd take care of her." Ron said.

"So?"

"She's alone. Now's our chance."

Harry frowned, "Ron, I don't think now's really the-"

But Ron had already focused his attention on the door Granger had gone through. He stood up from the table and followed after her. Harry rolled his eyes and rose from the table to follow Ron.

"Where are you guys going?" Neville asked.

Harry shook his head and continued after Ron.

"Ron, seriously, can we do this another time?" Harry asked when they reached the Entrance Hall.

"Now's the best time," Ron said, his focus completely on Granger, who was trotting up the main staircase.

"But I don't even know what we're doing," Harry said. "What do you mean, 'We're going to take care of her'?"

"We're just going to find out why she snitched on us," Ron said. "And why she keeps giving you the stink eye."

Harry wanted to tell Ron he didn't care about Granger glaring at him in the halls, but Ron seemed determined and he figured it would be useless to argue. They followed Granger up the stairs at a distance until she got off on the third floor. The third floor corridor was empty.

"Oy!" Ron said, "Hold up a minute."

Granger turned back to see who had called her, and when she saw Harry and Ron she turned back around and kept walking.

"Lousy mudblood," Ron said under his breath. Before Harry knew what was going on, Ron had pulled his wand out and pointed it at Granger. "_Locomotor Mortis!_"

Harry had just enough time to throw his shoulder into Ron, knocking him off balance and sending his spell into the wall. Granger had heard the incantation and whipped around with her own wand out, her eyes were livid.

"What is your problem?" she shouted.

"My problem?" Ron asked, "What's your problem? First you threaten Harry in the halls and then you rat us out to Percy and get us in trouble!"

"I wouldn't have had to 'rat' you out if you hadn't been breaking the rules!" Hermione said. Her face was flushed red and she jabbed her wand at Ron with every word she spoke.

"So you admit it!" Ron said, he had a white knuckled grip on his wand and his ears were bright red.

Harry watched this exchange in fear, afraid that the two would curse each other into oblivion.

"I never lied about what I did!" Hermione said, then she turned to Harry, "And if your friend has something to say to me, he can say it himself!"

Ron turned to Harry expectantly, but Harry didn't know what to say.

"What's the meaning of this?" came a voice that caused relief to flood through Harry. Professor Lupin strode up with a look the likes of which Harry had never seen on his face. "Wands away!" he said. Hermione quickly stowed hers in her robes and Ron reluctantly lowered his.

There was silence in the corridor for a moment as Moony studied the faces of his three students. "Who would like to explain what's going on here?" he asked in a soft, scary voice.

"They tried to curse me!" Hermione said.

"Did not!" Ron said.

"Did to!"

"Quiet, both of you!" Moony said. He turned to Harry. "What's going on here, Harry?"

Harry gulped and shared a furtive look with Ron. "We-uh-Ron and I, that is. We wanted to talk to Hermoine about something."

"And then she pulled her wand on us and started shrieking like a banshee," Ron said.

"That's not true, Professor!" Hermione said.

Moony held up a hand to silence them. "Harry?"

Harry looked to his feet. "That's right. She pulled her wand on us," he said. When he looked back up Moony looked shocked.

"Are you lying to me?"

Harry shook his head.

Moony's eyes narrowed. "I want you all in my office. Now!"

Ron groaned and glumly began walking towards Moony's office. Granger followed at a distance. Moony turned to Harry.

"I meant you too."

"I know, sir," Harry said, unable to meet his uncle's eyes, "But...I've got detention with Snape in a few minutes.

Moony took a moment to consider this before nodding. "Very well then, I want you in my office immediately afterward, understood?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said. He watched Moony walk off after Granger and Ron and then slowly made his way down to the dungeons for detention with Snape.

**

* * *

**

Harry arrived at Snapes office at almost exactly seven, but the Potion's Master still saw fit to deduct a house point for tardiness. To Harry's surprise that was the worst part of the entire detention. He spent the rest of the hour scrubbing out disgusting cauldrons while Snape graded papers. The potion's master would look up from his papers periodically to criticize Harry's cleaning methods, but otherwise left him alone.

When the hour was over and Harry was preparing to leave, Snape stopped him.

"One more thing, Potter," he said. He stood from his desk and walked to a smoking cauldron at the end of the room. He dipped a ladle into the potion and funneled it into a glass flask. He put a stopper in the flask and handed it to Harry. "Take this to Professor Lupin. I trust you can handle that?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said.

"Keep in mind that if anything happens to this potion, I will make sure you are expelled."

"Of course, sir."

Snape returned to his desk and continued grading papers. Harry left quickly before Snape saw fit to deduct more house points or saddle him with more detentions. He made his trek to Lupin's office quickly with the bottled potion carefully cradled in his hands. Upon arrival he found Moony's door open and walked in without announcing himself.

Moony sat at his desk with a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose as he looked through class papers.

"Take a seat, Harry."

Harry did as he was told, and offered Moony the bottle of potion. "Snape wanted me to give this to you."

Moony looked up from his papers. "Ah, thank you," he took the bottle from Harry, uncorked it and downed it's content without any hesitation. The face he made once he'd drank the entire potion made Harry think he'd been poisoned. "Ugh. You never get used to the taste."

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"Wolfsbane. It helps me with my...transformations. Professor Snape has been kind enough to brew it for me."

Moony took out his wand and vanished the flask, then he simply stared at Harry. It took Harry a moment to realize that he was waiting for him to say something.

"I'm... really sorry," Harry said because it was the only thing he could think to say.

"It's not me you should be apologizing to."

"I know, it's just... I didn't know what to do. Ron said he just wanted to talk to Hermione and next thing I know they're trying to curse each other."

"Harry," Moony said, "You knew exactly what you should have done, what I'm wondering is why didn't you do it?"

Harry was taken aback, "What was it I was supposed to do?"

"You should have stopped it. Stopped Ron from pulling out his wand, or stopped him from following Hermione in the first place."

"I tried," Harry said, though he knew he hadn't tried very hard. "I couldn't get Ron to listen to me."

"Ron's your friend, he should listen to you."

"He wouldn't."

"Then maybe he's not a very good friend."

Harry was once again taken aback, and this time he didn't know what to say.

"Listen, Harry," Moony said, "I'm not going to tell your mother about this because I don't want to put you through the embarrassment of getting a howler. I'm not giving you detention because I figure detention with Professor Snape is already punishment enough for you. And I don't want to know what you had to do to get those detentions with Snape, either."

Harry had a relieved smile on his face.

"I am going to take ten house points," Moony continued, causing the smile to fall off Harry's face, "And I want you to apologize to Hermione Granger, understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now, get back to Gryffindor Tower and try to enjoy the rest of your Halloween without getting in trouble."

**

* * *

**

Once he arrived at the Gryffindor common room, Harry was immediately met by Ron.

"Did you talk to Lupin?" he asked.

Harry nodded.

"What'd he do to you?"

"Took off ten house points."

"That's it?" Ron asked, "He gave me detention!"

"I've already got two weeks worth of detention with Snape, he figured that was bad enough."

"Sounds like favoritism to me."

"Well, he also told me to apologize to Hermione."

Ron frowned. "He made me do that to. Practically had me on my knees in front of her. Then she apologized to me and you could tell she didn't mean it."

"I guess I better get that over with now."

Harry scanned the common room for the familiar bushy brown hair, but Ron grabbed his arm and pulled him towards a table.

"Don't waste your breath on her. We've got more important things to worry about."

"Like what?" Harry asked.

"Remember when I said I knew someone who could help us search the castle for that thing that's hidden?"

"Um..." Harry had forgotten all about the thing in the castle and his friends' decision to find it in the mess of the hectic day.

"Well, Fred and George know every secret passage in the castle, and they've already agreed to help us." Ron came to a stop and let go of Harry's arm. The table they'd stopped at was occupied by the Weasley Twins, who sat with their arms crossed and with mischievous smiles on their faces.

"Take a seat," Fred said in a businessman's tone.

Harry made sure to check the chair for any kind of pranks before he sat. Ron sat next to him.

"Word is you need help sneaking around the castle," George said.

"Er...yeah," Harry said.

"It'll cost you," Fred said.

"You're going to charge us?" Ron asked.

"Of course not," George said, "We wouldn't charge one of our Quidditch mates." He reached across the table and gave Harry a punch to the chest. Harry tried to hide his wince with a smile.

"But you, little brother," Fred said, "You'll have pay us. And we want our gold upfront."

"This is ridiculous!" Ron said.

"If you don't like it you can always just find someone else who knows all the castle's secrets," George said.

Ron groaned. "Okay, I'll pay you whatever you want."

"Excellent," George said.

"So, you'll help us?" Harry asked.

"Oh, no," Fred said, "We're much too busy."

"Then what were you just talking about?" Ron asked.

"We can't help you directly, but we can give you something that will help you," George said. He pulled out a blank piece of parchment and laid it on the table.

"A piece of parchment?" Ron asked, displeased.

George smirked and pulled out his wand. He touched the parchment with the tip of his wand and whispered, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." Lines of ink appeared from George's wand tip and spread out onto the rest of the parchment. The lines of ink formed shapes on the parchment and before long Harry and Ron were staring at a map.

"What is it?" Harry asked in awe.

"The Marauder's Map," George said.

"We nicked from Filch's office in our first year," Fred said.

"Shows all of Hogwarts, even the secret passages," George said.

"Are those...people?" Harry asked, pointing to the dots moving about the map.

"Yep. Can even show you their names if you want it to," Fred said.

"It's amazing," Ron said.

"And it can be yours for the low, low price of ten Knuts a night," Fred said.

"We'll take it," Ron said with an awestruck smile.

"Great. Pleasure doing business with you gents," George said.

Harry and Ron took turns shaking the Twins' hands. The Twins departed, leaving Harry and Ron to study the incredible map.

"What's this bit at the top say?" Ron asked. "...Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs are proud to present..."

Harry's jaw dropped as he read over the names. "No way."

"What?"

"Nothing. I just remembered I need to talk to my dad about something."


	5. Chapter 5

Book I

Chapter 5

Dumbledore's Treasure

"GRYFFINDOR! FIGHT FIGHT! GRYFFINDOR! FIGHT FIGHT! GRYFFINDOR! FIGHT FIGHT!"

The chant, accompanied by stomping and clapping, shook the entire Quidditch pitch. Down in the Gryffindor locker room the mood was entirely different. The tension in the air was thick, and the only one immune to it was Oliver Wood who stood before his team and drew formations and strategies in the air with his wand. The team only listened with half an ear. Harry didn't listen at all. He was a Seeker, the only strategy he had to worry about was finding the Snitch as soon as possible. But the simplicity of his job did little to calm the butterflies flapping around in his stomach. He was so nervous that he hadn't even been able to eat that morning. All the food his friends had pushed toward him had only made him nauseous.

"Potter, did you get all that?" Wood asked.

Harry's eyes widened when his captain addressed him. "Um, what?"

"Damn it, Potter! You're our most valuable asset, I can't have you spacing out!"

"You leave little Harry alone, Wood," George said, sliding over to occupy the bench space to Harry's right.

"Yeah, it's his first big Quidditch match," Fred said, occupying the space to Harry's left. "He's just nervous."

"You can't blame him," George said. "I mean, the Slytherin's have been known to be rather cruel to Seekers."

Fred nodded solemnly, "Remember the story of that Hufflepuff boy? First year starting in his first game. Slytherin's roughed him up so bad he was never able to play Quidditch again."

"Yeah," George said, staring off somberly for a moment. He snapped back to Harry with a grin. "I'm sure that won't happen to you, though!"

"That's enough!" Wood shouted.

Both Fred and George jumped up and stood at attention, each saluted Wood in an exaggerated fashion.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Wood, sir!" They chorused.

Wood glared at the Twins, but the three female Chasers giggled at the Twins' antics and even Harry managed a smile.

A whistle from the Pitch signaled the beginning of the match.

"Alright! Gear up and let's move out!"

"Sir, yes, sir!" The Twins shouted. They marched out of the locker room with their brooms slung over their shoulders and Wood followed behind them shaking his head.

Harry stepped out onto the Pitch and was nearly blown out of his shoes by the noise. The chanting, stomping and clapping that had been so loud in their locker room was deafening out on the pitch. The stands were filled to the brim with students, teachers and parents. Harry knew that somewhere in the mass of people were his own parents, as well as his friends, all of whom had come to the game to cheer him on.

All of a sudden, the butterflies in his stomach were gone. His heart still raced but he wasn't nervous. In fact, the idea of being nervous now seemed laughable when just a few seconds ago it had been a reality. This was Quidditch! If there was one thing he knew it was Quidditch. He had no reason to be nervous. He was excited.

The Gryffindor team met the Slytherin team at the middle of the field where Madame Hooch went over the rules of the game and made them swear to a clean game. By the looks Harry received from the Slytherin players, particularly their trollish looking captain Marcus Flint, the game was bound to be the exact opposite.

"Players on your brooms!" Hooch said over the roar of the crowd. Harry mounted his broom with a wide grin. Hooch kicked open a chest containing the balls and the Snitch and Bludgers flew out. Harry tried to track the little golden ball, but it was on the other side of the pitch in an instant. Finally, Madame Hooch grabbed the Quaffle and tossed it in the air.

"Play ball!"

**

* * *

**

"Potter! Potter! Potter! Potter! Potter!"

The chant echoed through the halls of Hogwarts as a crowd of Gryffindor's stampeded through the halls. In the middle of all the commotion was Harry, sitting atop the shoulder's of Fred (or maybe George) Weasley. His hair was messier than usual, he had lost his glasses at some point, and his Quidditchs robes were dirty. His face was flushed with color and he was smiling so wide he was in danger of his face splitting in two.

They had won. He had won.

The game had been brutal. Fred and George hadn't lied about the Slytherin's being aggressive. The Slytherin's Beaters had targeted Harry from the very beginning of the match and had went after him hard. Luckily for Harry, Fred and George were just as aggressive in defending him. He had never gotten hit with the Bludger once. However, with Fred and George so occupied with keeping Harry safe they weren't able to attack the Slytherin Chasers and they were able to rack up points quicker than the Gryffindor Chasers could keep up. It was after the Slytherin's had scored their tenth goal that Harry saw the Snitch. A few seconds later and he was holding the Snitch in his hands, the Slytherin Seeker hadn't come close to catching it. The Gryffindor's had been so ecstatic that they'd stormed the pitch. Harry had been swept off the field and carried to the castle before he'd gotten a chance to see his parents.

The herd of Gryffindor's arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady. The Fat Lady regarded them all with an amused smirk.

"What's the password?" she asked.

"Flubberworms!" the entire contingent of Gryffindor's shouted.

The portrait swung open and whichever Weasley Twin Harry was riding on deposited him on the ground. He climbed through the portrait hole first and was followed by the rest of the team. His jaw dropped when he entered the common room. Dazzling banners of red and gold were strewn across the ceiling. The tables and desks that were usually reserved for studying were laden with drinks and snacks.

"Who did this?" Harry asked as other Gryffindor's entered the common room with similar looks of awe on their faces.

One of the Weasley Twins slapped him on the back. "We did, of course."

"Set it up right before the match so we wouldn't have to waste time getting to our celebration," the other twin said.

"What if we hadn't won?" Harry asked.

Both twins gave him a look that said they'd never considered it.

"It's good to see Gryffindor's haven't changed much since my day."

Harry turned around quickly and saw that the last two people to enter the portrait hole were his parents.

"Mum, dad!" he said as his mother wrapped him in a tight hug, "What are you-? Are you even allowed to be up here?"

His dad shrugged, "I'm sure Professor McGonagall won't mind if we stick around for a while to congratulate our son on his first Quidditch victory."

His mother released her hug on him and stepped back. She had tears in her eyes.

"What are you crying for, mum?"

"It's been so long since I've seen you," she said in a wavering voice.

"It hasn't been that long," Harry said, his cheeks reddening a bit.

His dad strode forward and tousled his hair. "That's a long time for a mother to go without her baby bird," he said, "Besides, aren't you happy to see us?"

Harry smiled at his parents, then he remembered something. "Actually, dad, there was something I've been wanting talk to you about."

"What about?" his dad asked.

"It's-er-private. You know, boy talk," he turned to his mother. "You don't mind, do you mum?"

She smiled at him. "Of course not. You boys go talk and I'll keep an eye on the party," she paused and surveyed her surroundings, "Make sure things don't get too out of hand."

"Oh, let the kids have some fun, Lily!" his father said as Harry dragged him away. Harry dragged his father through the common room and up the stairs to the boys dormitories. Once they were alone in the first year dorms Harry began digging through the trunk at the foot of his bed. "What exactly is it you wanted to talk to me about, son?"

"I need to show you something," Harry said, "I was going to write you about it, but I was afraid mum would read about it. I thought about asking Uncle Moony about it, but I was afraid he'd just take it away."

"Well, whatever it is, son, you can-" his dad paused as Harry pulled an old, worn out piece of parchment out of his trunk. "Harry! Is that what I think it is?"

Harry smiled and presented the piece of parchment to his father. He pulled out his wand and said, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

His father watched with a nostalgic smile as lines of ink spread about the paper and formed a map of Hogwarts. "Where'd you get that from?" he asked in amazement.

"Fred and George Weasley said they nicked it from Filch in their first year," Harry said.

"Filch still had it?" his dad asked, "I was sure the old bastard had given it to Headmaster Riddle or had it destroyed. I guess this explains why you've been getting into so much trouble lately. Your mother hasn't let me hear the end of it."

"I actually just got the map," Harry said, "We haven't gotten a chance to use it yet because we've been too busy with classes and detentions, but we've got big plans."

His dad smirked, "Big plans, eh? Mind indulging your old man?"

Harry mimicked his father's smirk, "There's something hidden in the castle, not even Headmaster Riddle knows where it is. We plan on finding it."

"What is it?" his father asked with a raised eyebrow.

"We don't know yet."

"Why are you looking for it?"

Harry shrugged, "Why not?"

His dad laughed, "That's as good an answer as any," he said, "Would you like a bit of advice?"

"Of course!"

His dad held the map out to him, "These places here," he said, indicating certain areas on the map, "are secret passages that lead directly to -"

"Hogsmeade," Harry said, he hadn't noticed those before. There seemed to be seven in all.

"Right," his father continued with a grin, "I don't know if anyone would want to hide something in these, but it's good information to have regardless. You know, if you ever feel like skipping down to Hogsmeade for some butterbeer. You can also try the kitchens which are right here behind a paining of a blow of fruit. Just tickle the pear to get in. I doubt anyone hid anything there, but the elves are usually pretty friendly and might help you out. Plus, like I said, it's good information to have regardless."

Harry smiled up at his father, "Have I ever told you that you're the best dad ever?"

"Yes, but not nearly enough," his father said with a smile. "Now let's get back down to the party before your mother starts to get suspicious."

**

* * *

**

"Great job in that game, Potter!"

Harry turned to the boy, an older student who he had never met before, and gave him his best smile. It was amazing how much things could change in a day. Before the Gryffindor-Slytherin match, he had been a nobody. At best he was known as 'Ron Weasley's Friend with the glasses'. Today he couldn't walk from Gryffindor Tower to the Great Hall without half the students he saw giving him some type of congratulations.

"Keep up the good work, Potter!" another student Harry had never spoken to before shouted.

"I'll do my best!" Harry said. He was finding it hard to stop smiling. He passed by a group of Ravenclaw students, all of whom cast an appraising gaze at him. He continued to smile and acknowledged them with a nod of his head. Ravenclaw was up next on the schedule for Gryffindor.

"Harry!" this time it was a girl who called his name. He turned around and saw Lavender Brown approaching him. He had never talked to her before, she hung around Ron a lot but she'd never said a word to him. She came to a stop a few feet away from him and he noticed her cheeks were red. Just as he was about to ask her if something was wrong she launched at him and hugged. Before Harry could even register what was going on Lavender stopped hugging him and ran back to a group of other young girls. The group of girls chattered excitedly in high pitched voices and giggled. Harry was left feeling like he had just been made fun of.

Blushing, Harry turned and walked down the main staircase. By the time he got down to the Entrance Hall he had already done his best to put Lavender Brown out of his mind. He was having a good day and he didn't want one embarrassing moment to muddy it up. It was just as he was about to enter the Great Hall that someone else called his name again.

"Potter!"

Harry sighed. He had recognized the voice this time and it definitely wasn't a well wisher. He turned and saw Draco Malfoy and his two cronies approaching him.

"Hey, Draco," Harry greeted, trying to stay upbeat despite the fact that Draco looked like he was about shoot fire from his eyes, "What's up?"

Draco glared at Harry for a moment before speaking, "I just wanted to … congratulate you on behalf of Slytherin house."

Harry's eyes widened, "Oh, uh, thanks."

"But know this, _Potter,_" Draco hissed, sounding more like his normal self, "Next year, when I'm on the Slytherin team, things are going to be different, understood?"

Harry nodded, thinking to himself that this had to be the worst congratulation in the history of forever.

"So, enjoy your victory over Slytherin while it lasts, because it's the last one you'll ever get to experience." To punctuate Draco's statement Crabbe and Goyle loudly cracked their knuckles and threateningly flexed their muscles. With his point made, Draco and his two cronies pushed their way pass Harry and entered the Great Hall.

Harry stared after Draco, dumbfounded. Why had the Slytherin chosen to congratulate him? On behalf of his whole house no less? A sickening though suddenly entered his mind. Did Draco think they were...friends? Harry couldn't imagine why he would since the only time they talked was when Ron was around. But it was the only reason he could think of why the arrogant Slytherin would congratulate him in public. Then again, it hadn't been a very good congratulation in the first place.

He shook his head and tried to put the thought from his mind. He was having a good day and didn't need to ruin it by getting too caught up in Draco's congratulation or his vague threats. He put on his smile again and strode into the Great Hall, anticipating all the congratulations he would receive from his housemates at breakfast.

He was only able to make it two steps into the Great Hall when he bumped into someone and sent them sprawling to the ground. Looking down, he saw Hermione Granger glaring back up at him with her face flushed. Harry made no attempt to help her up, for all the death glares she'd given him he figured she didn't deserve his help. He simply stepped over a few books she had dropped and continued on his way. The other students who had seen Granger fall made no attempt to help her either, some even laughed at her.

By the time Harry got to his friend's seats at Gryffindor table he had already completely forgotten about accidentally knocking the girl over.

"You're up late," Dean said as Harry took a seat and started grabbing some food.

"Decided to have a bit of a lie-in," Harry said with a smile. He wasn't sure if he'd ever stop smiling at this rate.

"Well, I hope you're well rested, because we've got work to do tonight," Ron said.

Harry gave him a questioning look.

Ron rolled his eyes and leaned over the table, "We're supposed to start looking for _that thing_ tonight," he whispered.

"Oh, _that,_" Harry said, "Yeah, I'll be ready tonight."

"Maybe we shouldn't talk about that here," Neville said with a cautious glance around at the other students nearby.

Harry nodded, "We'll talk about it more later, when we're alone."

**

* * *

**

The boys went the rest of the day without mentioning their plan to sneak out of the common room that night and look for the object hidden at Hogwarts. It wasn't until after dinner that night, when they were able to secure a secluded table in the Gyffindor common room, that they began to discuss their plans. In truth, there wasn't a lot to discuss. Harry showed his friends the same secret passages that his father had shown him and they all decided to investigate those areas first.

After their plan had been finalized, they all made a show of going to bed early. They waited up in their dormitories for a few hours until they thought the common room would be empty and they snuck back down. When a quick examination revealed that the common room was empty they made for the portrait hole to begin their late night adventure.

"Where are you going?" someone asked, causing them all to jump in surprise. They turned around and saw Hermione Granger standing in the common room. How she had escaped their notice they didn't know.

"What's it to you?" Ron asked, "You going to tattle on us again?"

Harry saw Ron reaching for the pocket that held his wand and suddenly had a bad feeling about this night. Ron's actions hadn't escaped Hermione's notice and her hand drifted down to her robe pocket.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked again. She leveled a glare at Harry, and he was left wondering why she always singled him out.

"It's none of your business," Ron said.

"It _is _my business when you keep losing all of our house points!" Hermione nearly shouted.

"What do you care?" Ron asked.

"I care plenty when all the house points I earn are thrown away just because a couple of boys got bored and decided to sneak out at night."

"Maybe she's right, guys," Neville said quietly, "We don't even what we're doing. Is it worth the risk of getting detention again and losing a bunch of house points?"

Ron's head snapped around so quickly, Harry thought he heard it snap. Ron leveled Neville with a glare that caused him to drop his eyes to the ground.

"Sorry."

"You shouldn't be apologizing," Hermione said, "You're smarter than all of them. They should be listening to you."

Harry remembered Ron's first argument with Hermione and how badly that had gone. He remembered how Moony had told him he should have done the right thing and prevented the confrontation. Maybe this was his chance to redeem himself.

"Why don't you just go back to bed, Hermione," he said, "Telling on us will just cause us to lose more house points, and I know you don't want that."

Hermione's glare intensified, "Why don't you just go back to bed and I won't have to worry about telling on you?"

"Find, we'll go back to bed," Ron said. Harry turned to Ron with a surprised look on his face.

"And then you'll just sneak back down here," Hermione said.

"Yep," Ron said, "And what are you going to do about it? Sit down here all night? Then we'll just sneak out tomorrow. Even if you tell McGonagall on us we'll just find a time to sneak out again. You can't stop us."

"Fine!" Hermione said. She turned on her heel and marched towards her dormitory. "I hope you find whatever you're looking for!"

"That was unexpected," Dean said. He turned to Harry, "She really doesn't like you."

Harry sighed. "I know. Let's just get on with it now."

**

* * *

**

The search for the hidden treasure at Hogwarts (Harry wasn't sure if it actually was a treasure, but calling it one made things more excited) had been uneventful. They'd started off by exploring the secret passage behind the statue of the one eyed old crone on the third floor corridor. The passage behind the statue was dark, damp and earthy; it was more like the burrow of a giant rabbit than anything else. Luckily, they had just learned the _Lumos_ spell in the charms the other day, otherwise they wouldn't have been able to see their hands in front of their faces.

They'd followed the twisting, winding passage until they finally walked off the edge of the Maruader's Map and they saw no signs of any hidden treasures. In fact, the passage looked like it hadn't been used in centuries. Ron had pleaded with the rest of the boys to keep walking, mostly because he wanted to explore Hogsmeade. After explaining to Ron that everything in Hogsmeade was closed at this late an hour, they all turned back. Walking through the passage and then walking back took nearly an hour, and by the time they climbed out of the old one eyed crones hump Harry could tell his friends were getting bored. They had expected an exciting adventure, instead they'd just walked in the dark for an hour.

Still, Harry felt driven to at least try to find whatever was hidden in the castle and managed to convince his friends to soldier on. They went up to the fourth floor corridor where there was another secret passage behind a mirror. Behind the mirror was a rough, rocky slide.

"You first, mate," Ron said, eying the darkness beyond the mirror warily.

With a grimace, Harry handed Ron the Marauder's Map and stuffed his wand into his pocket. He tried to ease himself down the slide, but it was too steep and he soon found himself tumbling down. He fell for what felt like an hour, but eventually came to a stop when he hit hard ground. Neville came tumbling down not long after him, followed by Dean, then Seamus, and eventually, Ron.

Harry pulled his wand out of his pocket. "_Lumos._"

He cast the light of his wand around and wasn't pleased by what he saw. The passage before him seemed to be haphazardly carved out of he rocks of Hogwart's very foundation. There were creaking wooden poles set up along the walls, presumably to keep the ceiling from caving in. The ground was covered in loose rubble that would make walking difficult.

"This looks safe," Dean said.

Ron groaned, "Let's just get out of here, I don't think anyone would want to hide something down here."

"Wouldn't the least likely place to hide something also be the best place?" Seamus asked.

"Well, this place looks like it's going to cave in any minute," Ron said. "So if there's something hidden in here it can stay hidden."

Harry sighed, "Where to next, then?"

"How about bed?" Dean asked.

Ron ignored him and lit his wand. He used the light to peer at the Marauder's Map. "How about here?"

Harry leaned over to see where he was pointing. "I think that's the Whomping Willow, Ron."

Ron frowned, "Yeah, you're right, but there's a passage underneath it."

"Can we talk about this somewhere where we're less likely to die?" Dean asked, warily watching the unsteady passage around them.

Ron gave Dean a light-hearted glare before turning back to Harry. "You know, if I was going to hide something in the castle, I'd want it to be protected by the Whomping Willow."

"Are you actually suggesting that we go toe-to-toe with the Whomping Willow just to see if _maybe _there's something hidden underneath it?" Seamus asked.

Ron's frown deepened, "You're right, that's crazy. Where to next then?"

"Bed," Dean said again, this time more forcefully.

"That sounds like a good idea," Neville said.

"What about the kitchens?" Harry said, "My dad says the elves are really helpful. Maybe they saw something the night the thing was hidden?"

"Elves? At Hogwarts?" Ron asked. "I've never seen any."

"You're not supposed to," Harry said. "Don't worry though. From what Moony-er-Professor Lupin tells me they're the good kind of elves. Not like the wizard-hating ones who live in the forest."

"And what if the elves don't help us?" Dean asked.

"Then we can go to bed," Harry said.

"Sounds like plan," Seamus said, clapping his hands together. "Now we just have to get back up this ruddy slide."

Harry frowned and tucked his wand back into his pocket. He began the arduous climb up the slide and his four friends followed. Half-an-hour later and they had finally reached the top of the slide and climbed back out the mirror that hid it. Looking around at his friends, Harry could tell that now all of them just wanted to go back to bed, but he was determined to not let tonight be a total waste. He lead the way down stairs to the kitchens.

According to the Map, Filch and Mrs. Norris were prowling around on the other side of the castle, so the boy's had no problems making it down to the kitchens. As they stood before the portrait of a bowl of fruit, Harry glanced to his four companions. All of them were dirty and looked tired. He reached forward and tickled the pear on the painting. The entire painting shook for a moment, as if it were laughing, before it swung open and a cacophony of noise bled out into the hall.

The kitchen was as large as the Great Hall, with four long table positioned exactly as the tables in the Great Hall were. Stoves, stacked with a multitude of pots and pans, lined the walls. Running between the tables and tending to the stoves were short, skinny creatures with green skin and large, bat-like ears.

"These are elves?" Ron asked.

"Young masters should not be out of bed!" squeaked one particular elf as it rushed toward the kitchen door.

"You're not going to get us in trouble, are you?" Harry asked.

"No, no, of course not," the elf squeaked as it ushered them into the kitchen. "Please, sit yourselves down."

"Er-we don't want to bother you," Harry said as the elf flitted about.

"It is no bother at all, young master," the house elf squeaked. It (Harry still wasn't sure if it was a male or female) snapped it's fingers and a tray laden with hot chocolate and snack cakes appeared on the table before him.

"All right!" Ron exclaimed, reaching forward and grabbing a mug of hot chocolat.

The other boys grabbed their own mugs, except for Harry who followed the house elf.

"Please," Harry said, "Thank you for the food, but we really just came down here to ask a few questions."

The elf suddenly stopped what it had been doing and turned to Harry. He noticed for the first time that it had large blue eyes.

"Then ask quickly, young master, Tizzy is very busy preparing for breakfast."

Tizzy, that at least sounded like a girls name, but Harry was afraid that asking for clarification would be rude.

"We were just wondering if you or any of the other elves have heard about anything being hidden in the castle."

"No," Tizzy said, "We's not heard -"

She was interrupted by a loud crack as another elf appeared next her. "Ms. Tizzy, young masters, I have heard of something being hidden in the castle!"

Harry's eyes widened, both at the sudden appearance of the elf and the fact that he actually knew something. "Really?"

The new elf nodded enthusiastically, "Long ago when I was cleaning out Master Headmaster's office I heard him speak of something hidden in the castle."

Harry smiled and turned to his friends who leaned in with interest.

"Do you know what it is?" Ron asked.

The elf shook its head, causing it's giant ears to flap about its head.. "No, sirs, but I knows who hid it."

"Bibby!" Tizzy exclaimed, "It is not right for you to be sharing the secrets of Master Headmaster Riddle!"

Bibby's ears drooped. "Sorry, Miss Tizzy."

Harry's face fell.

"But we're your Master too, right?" Dean asked. "You don't want to let us down, do you?"

Bibby fervently shook his head and turned to Tizzy. "I guess it wouldn't hurt anything," Tizzy said.

"Great," Harry said. He was practically salivating with his want for this information. "So who hid the thing in the castle."

"It was Master Lord Dumbledore, sir." Bibby said with a big smile.

Harry felt like the floor had just been pulled from beneath him. Ron choked on his hot chocolate.

"Dumbledore?" Neville asked, sounding just as confused as Harry felt.

"Indeed, young master," Bibby said.

"Are you sure?" Dean asked.

"Bibby knows what he heard, sir." Bibby said, sounding almost offended that they would doubt him.

"That doesn't make any sense," Harry said. He turned to his friends, all of whom bore looks of shock and confusin just like him. "Why would Dumbledore hide something in the castle?"

"And why wouldn't he tell Headmaster Riddle about it?" Dean asked.

"Maybe he doesn't trust him," Seamus said.

"He wouldn't hide something in the castle if he didn't trust him," Harry said.

"Or would he?" Ron asked.

"What?"

"You said it yourself, Harry, Dumbledore's a nutter," Harry didn't recall saying that at all, but he knew what Ron was trying to say. "Maybe Dumbledore's trying to hide something from Riddle, and he's hiding it right under his nose. Whatever it is, Riddle still hasn't found it, so obviously it's not that bad of a plan."

"We don't know that though, do we?" Dean said. "It's been a few weeks since Harry overheard Riddle and Snape talking. It's possible that they already found whatever it was and this whole thing has been a waste of time."

Ron frowned at Dean's pessimism.

"They has still not found it, masters," Bibby said. "Just yesterday I heard Master Headmaster Riddle cursing and complaining about it."

"If it's been hidden in the castle since the Welcoming Feast, then Dumbledore sure picked a great hiding spot," Seamus said.

Something suddenly clicked in Harry's brain. "That's it!" he exclaimed, "Remember how I chased after Dumbledore the night of the Welcoming Feast? That's why he was still in the castle! He was hiding the thing!"

His friends were silent for a moment after this revelation.

"What floor was it that you found Dumbledore on?" Dean asked.

Harry smiled. He already knew what Dean was thinking. "He rescued me from Filch on the seventh floor."

"Do you think that's where it's hidden?" Neville asked.

"It's possible," Harry said. "It's a start at least."

"Well what are we waiting around here for?" Ron asked.

Harry was itching to go up to the seventh floor and search for Dumbledore's treasure, but he knew they couldn't. They all had class in the morning and it was getting late. They didn't have time to search an entire floor of Hogwarts, even with the Map.

"It'll have to wait until tomorrow night," he said. "My dad's map doesn't show any secret passages on the seventh floor, so we're going to have to a lot of searching to do."

His friends deflated.

"You're close with Dumbledore, right?" Seamus asked. "Can't you just write him and ask him what he hid in the castle?"

"If he won't even tell the Headmaster, what makes you think he'll tell Harry?" Dean said.

Seamus shrugged, "Maybe because Harry's not as scary as the Headmaster?"

They all laughed at that. Harry turned to the two elves who had helped them. "Thank you for all your help," he said.

"The pleasure is being ours, young masters," Tizzy said with a curtsey.

Bibby bowed so low that his nosed scraped against the ground. "If I is be hearing the Headmaster saying anything else I will inform you, young master," he said.

"Thank you," Harry said again, bowing slightly to the elf.

He and his friends left the kitchens and walked back to Gryffindor Tower.

"You know," Dean whispered as they walked up the main staircase, "Gryffindor Tower is on the seventh floor."

"You don't think Dumbledore would have hid it there, do you?" Seamus asked.

"Anything's possible. He could have snuck in after he dropped Harry off. The common room would have been empty."

The idea had never even occurred to Harry. "We can start our search there," he said, "Tomorrow night once the common room is empty. If it's not there then we can start searching the rest of the floor."

"The seventh floor is a big place," Neville said.

"Luckily, we've got my dad's map."

They walked the rest of the way to Gryffindor Tower in silence. When they arrived, the Fat Lady was snoozing in her portrait. Luckily for them, she was too tired to care that they were out of bed after hours and accepted the password with a yawn and lazily swung open. The common room was empty and they climbed the stairs to their dormitory and got into bed. Of course, none of them could sleep.

"What do you think it is?" Ron asked as he lay in his bed, "Do you think it could be treasure?"

"Why would he hide treasure in the castle?" Seamus asked, "I think it's some kind of ancient, powerful artifact. Like Merlin's Wand or something like that."

"Yeah, I think it's some kind of weapon." Dean said.

"Why would Dumbledore hide a weapon at a school?" Neville asked, a fearful tone to his voice.

"Hogwarts is supposed to be the safest place in Britain," Harry said.

"What do you think it is, Harry?" Neville asked.

Harry smiled in the darkness, "I don't know, but we're definitely going to find it."


	6. Chapter 6

Book I

Chapter 6

Dumbledore's Weapon

"Harry, wake up!"

Harry sat up suddenly as someone roughly shook him by the shoulder. A groggy glance around revealed that he wasn't in his bed at Gryffindor Tower, but instead was sitting at his desk in Dark Arts class. Class had apparently come to an end as most of the desks were empty. Neville and Ron stood on either side of him looking just as tired as he felt. The only other student still in the classroom was Hermione Granger, sitting as she always did in the desk in front of Harry, waiting for Professor Rätsel to deal out his daily detention. She had long since broken Fred and George's record.

"Long night, Potter?" Rätsel asked from his desk. There was a knowing look in his beady black eyes.

"Uh, yes, sir," Harry said as he hastily stood up and gathered his things.

"Up all night studying for exams?" Rätsel asked.

Harry smiled and nodded. Hermione turned around in her seat and glared at him. Harry avoided her glare as he grabbed the last of his things. She knew that it wasn't exams that had kept Harry and his friends up late at night. At least it wasn't only exams. Harry had found _some_ time to study for his exams in between sneaking out at night and searching for Dumbledore's Treasure (as the boys had gotten used to calling it). The fact that Wood had ramped up the intensity of Quidditch practices and had them practicing on weekend mornings certainly wasn't helping his energy level.

"Well, I'm sure you'll have no problem with my exam," Rätsel said with a smile. Harry nodded again and followed Ron and Neville out of the class. The old man's smile never failed to creep him out. It looked so out of place on Rätsel's other wise harsh looking face.

"What's our exam in that class going to be over?" Harry asked as he walked towards the Great Hall with Neville and Ron. He had been sleeping through Dark Arts class more often than not lately and must have missed Ratsel's announcement.

"What else would it be over?" Ron asked. "The _Ater Aduro_ curse. You'll have no problem with it."

"Right," Harry said. He had mastered _Ater Aduro_ nearly two months ago, that was why he had been using Rätsel's class as a nap time. The German professor didn't mind.

"I, on the other hand," Ron continued, "still haven't mastered it."

"At least you've gotten farther than me," Neville said, looking down at his feet as he walked. "I haven't even managed a spark."

"That's true," Ron said with a grin, feeling better about himself.

"You've just got to practice at it," Harry said. "It's not that difficult once you've got the hang of it."

"I don't have time to practice," Neville said. "Anytime we're not in class we're talking about looking-" he paused and looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, "Dumbledore's Treasure. Then at night we got out looking for it. I've barely had time to complete my other assignments."

"He's right," Ron said, surprising both Harry and Neville. "Maybe we should take a break."

Harry had expected something like this. He had seen the lack of enthusiasm in his friend's faces when they searched the halls at night. They had started off excited, but as time wore on with no sign of Dumbledore's Treasure their enthusiasm had waned.

"We can't afford to take a break," he said. "It's been three weeks since we started searching the seventh floor and we haven't found anything."

"It's not like it's going anywhere," Ron said. "Headmaster Riddle still hasn't found it, and we're the only other people who know that there's something hidden in the castle."

"What are you three talking about?"

Harry nearly jumped as Professor McGonagall seemed to appear from nowhere. She regarded the three boys with her arms crossed and a stern look on her face.

"Nothing, Professor," they said in unison.

McGonagall regarded them skeptically. She looked each of them in the eye, looking for any sign of weakness. When the boys didn't break, she simply said, "Carry on, then."

The boys continued their trek to the Great Hall and Harry let out a relieved sigh when they had cleared the range of McGonagall's hearing. "We've really got to stop talking about this in public," he said.

They reached the Great Hall and found Seamus and Dean. Seamus seemed to be barley awake. His chin was resting in his hand and his eyelids dropped so low that only a sliver of his eyes could be seen. Dean had the same tired look in his eyes that Neville and Ron had as he gazed down at his plate and lackadaisically pushed his food around.

Harry sat down across from Seamus, startling from his half-sleep. The Irish boy looked around dazedly for a moment before he seemed to remember where he was. He stretched and let out a loud yawn before letting his gaze settle on Harry.

"What's up?" he asked.

"We're trying to convince Harry to put off the search while we study for exams," Ron said as he piled food on his plate.

Seamus gave him an incredulous look, "_You _want more time to study for exams?"

Ron frowned, "Well, there's more to it than that. Peeves has been hanging around the seventh floor a lot more lately. He knows we're sneaking around up there. Once Filch realizes Peeves is spending more time on the seventh floor, he'll be up there more often too."

"You've put a lot of thought into this," Dean said. He turned to Harry, "It's not a bad idea though. It wouldn't hurt to take a few weeks off."

"A few weeks?" Harry asked, "Exams are in two weeks. After that we've got Winter Break which means we'll all be out of the castle for a month. In that time Headmaster Riddle could have found Dumbledore's treasure and we'll never know what it is."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Ron said. "My mum and dad are going on vacation with Bill and Ginny. They're leaving Fred, George, Percy and me at school for the holidays. I can search the castle for you while you're gone."

"Oh," Harry said, "I still don't like the idea."

Really, he didn't want _anyone_ to find Dumbledore's treasure while he was out of the castle. He wanted to be the one to find it. Why? He wasn't exactly sure and he knew it sounded selfish, but he couldn't help it.

"Please, Harry," Neville said, "If I fail any of my exams my parents will disown me."

The other boys laughed, but Neville didn't seem to think it was funny.

"Fine," Harry relented. "We can take the next two weeks off while we study."

"I don't know if I should be happy or not," Seamus said. "I mean, I don't have to sneak around the castle late at night anymore, but now I have to study."

All the boys laughed, but Harry couldn't shake the feeling that his friends didn't really care about studying (except for maybe Neville), but that they just weren't having fun anymore. Searching for Dumbledore's treasure had started off as an adventure but had quickly turned into an obligation. That's why he was so reluctant to take a few weeks off. He was afraid that if they stopped that he wouldn't be able to convince them to start back up again.

**

* * *

**

Harry watched as Neville glared at a small block of wood. At least, it was the closest thing to a glare the meek boy could muster.

"_Ater Aduro!_" he said. Nothing happened.

Neville sighed, "I'm rubbish."

"You're not rubbish," Harry said. "You just need better motivation. Like me, I imagine Snape when I cast the spell."

"And I imagine that nosy girl Granger," Ron said from where he sat in an unused desk. The three boys had commandeered an empty class room to practice the spell. Seamus and Dean had chosen to go to the library and use their break time to study for History of Magic. "You just have to imagine someone you hate," Ron continued.

"I don't hate anyone," Neville said.

"You have to hate someone," Ron said. "What about Snape? He picks on you almost as much as he picks on Harry."

Neville shook his head.

"Then what about McGonagall, or any of your other teachers?" Neville shook his head again, "What about your grandmother? Or your parents?"

Neville flinched.

Ron smirked, "Your parents."

Harry frowned. Why would Neville hate his parents?

"I don't hate my parents," Neville said, stuttering.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Ron said. "Not everyone likes their parents."

"I love my parents," Neville said, his voice was shaking.

"You could at least try," Ron said. "Think of your parents and cast the spell. Let's see what happens."

"I don't want to," Neville said, he turned to Harry with his eyes pleading.

Harry shrugged, "It couldn't hurt to try. It's not like anything else has worked for you."

Neville sighed, "Okay, but it's not going to work." He focused on the small wooden block and tightened his grip on his wand. He pointed his wand at the block and spoke the incantation with a stutter. A black spark leapt out of his wand and created a scorch mark on the wood.

Ron clapped his hands and said, "Great job!"

But Neville didn't look happy. His face went pale and his hands began to shake.

"Uh, Neville?" Harry said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder, "Are you okay?"

Neville nodded slowly. "I think I'm done for today," he said softly.

"Done?" Ron asked. "But you're just getting started."

Neville wordlessly turned away from Harry and Ron and walked out the classroom's door.

"What's his problem?" Ron asked.

Harry stared through the door that Neville had gone through and said, "He just realized he hates his parents."

**

* * *

**

Harry and Ron didn't see Neville for the rest of the day. Harry had begun to worry, but Ron talked him out of it.

"Don't worry," he said, "We'll see him at Defense class."

But he wasn't at Defense class. Professor Lupin asked if anyone knew where he was and no one said anything. Harry really began to worry then, but Ron once again talked him out of it.

"Don't worry," he said. "He's probably up in the dorms taking a nap. You know how Dark Arts spells can sometimes take a lot out of you."

So right after Defense class, Harry and Ron went up to their dorms to see if Neville was there. He wasn't. He wasn't in the common room either.

"Don't worry," Ron said, "He's probably already down in the Great Hall eating dinner."

But Harry couldn't stop worrying now. He knew that when he got to the Great Hall he wouldn't find Neville there, and he was right. Neville was no where to be found at the Gryffindor table.

"Where's Neville?" Dean asked as Harry and Ron sat down across from Seamus and him.

"I was hoping you had seen him," Harry said, trying not to sound as worried as he felt.

Dean shook his head, "Last time I saw him was when he left with you two to practice that curse."

"That's the last time we saw him too," Ron said.

"So you said he just freaked out after casting the curse?" Dean asked. Harry had told him and Seamus the story during Defense class.

"Yeah, apparently he hates his parents or something," Ron said offhandedly as he focused on his food.

"Why would Neville hate his parents?" Seamus asked. "Aren't they Knights? That's got to be the coolest job ever."

"He says they're not home a lot," Harry said. "That could be why he...doesn't like them."

He couldn't bring himself to say hate. He just couldn't wrap his mind around the idea that Neville Longbottom hated anyone, especially his own parents.

"Should we go looking for him?" Dean asked.

"Nah, don't worry about it," Ron said before Harry could speak. "I'm sure he's fine."

Harry sighed and quietly agreed and the boys went about eating their dinner. He was worried about Neville, but he knew that nothing bad could happen to him on Hogwarts grounds. Still, he constantly cast looks towards the doors of the Great Hall, hoping that Neville would walk through them. He never did. After they finished eating they made to exit the Great Hall and go up to their common room, but as they passed the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy called out to them.

"Wealsey, Potter!"

Harry quietly sighed. Every time he had to talk to Draco he felt worse because of the experience. Ron never seemed to mind though. Harry followed Ron to Draco's spot at Slytherin table while Dean and Seamus waited by the Great Hall doors.

"What's up, Draco?" Ron said.

"I saw your pal Longbottom walking out to the Herbology greenhouses earlier," Draco said, not bothering to look up from his food. "That mudblood Granger followed after him. Figured you might want to know."

Ron turned to Harry in alarm. Harry didn't find the situation as dire as Ron seemed to, but he still found it odd.

"How long ago was this," he asked.

Malfoy shrugged.

"Come on, Harry," Ron said, pulling Harry away from the Slytherins by his robes, "We've got to help Neville."

"Help Neville?" Dean asked as Ron pulled Harry out of the Great Hall. "What's wrong with him?"

"He's down at the greenhouses with Granger," Ron said, his voice full of dread.

"I'm sure he's fine," Harry said, finally managing to break Ron's hold on his robes as the reached the Entrance Hall. He found this whole situation odd, especially how Ron hadn't cared where Neville was until Granger had been mentioned. He also didn't fully trust Malfoy's information.

"Fine?" Ron exclaimed, "Who knows what that girl is doing to him."

Harry frowned. Granger may have irrationally hated him, but he strongly doubted she was torturing Neville down at the greenhouses. "Look, I'll go down to the greenhouses and check on Neville, you guys just head back up to the common room."

"But-" Ron began.

"He's right," Dean interrupted. "There's no need for all of us to go down to the greenhouses. Plus, you need to get started on your Transfiguration homework, Ron."

Harry nodded his silent thanks to Dean. The real reason he didn't want Ron to go greenhouses was because he didn't want to risk another incident between Ron and Hermione. After their first incident, Moony had told Harry that he should have prevented the confrontation. Hopefully, he had managed that this time.

Ron reluctantly agreed to the plan, but said, "If you and Neville aren't back in ten minutes I'm coming after you."

Harry nodded and resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Ron's dramatic attitude. Dean and Seamus dragged a reluctant Ron up the stairs and Harry exited the Great Hall. Once outside, he pulled his robes tightly around his body; it was awfully cold out. He realized it would be a good idea to go back to the common room to fetch his winter cloak, but felt like it would be a waste of time now. He made the trek to the greenhouses as quickly as possible, crunching through day-old snow the entire way.

When he got to the greenhouses he noticed that only one of them had a light on. Figuring that one to be the one where Neville and Hermoine were, he entered and was happy to find that it was warm inside.

"Harry!" Neville said as Harry entered the greenhouse. He was wearing gloves and an apron and held a water pail in his hands. "I was just about to finish up here and head to the Great Hall for dinner."

"Dinner's over by now, Neville," Harry said. He cast his eyes about and found Hermione Granger standing on the other side of the greenhouse working with some plants he had never seen before. She looked up at him and glared as she always did, though Harry noticed the glare seemed a little less intense than usual.

"Oh, then I guess I'll have to make a trip down to the kitchens," Neville said with a smile. He seemed happier than usual. Definitely in a much better mood than when Harry had last seen him. "I haven't eaten since lunch."

"You've been down here that long?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, I remembered that I'd promised Professor Sprout that I'd stop by to take care of a couple of the plants. You know, for extra credit."

Harry frowned. Neville didn't need extra credit in Herbology, he probably had the highest grade in the class.

Neville put the water pail in the supplies closet and stripped off the gloves and apron he had been wearing. "Alright. Ready to go?"

Harry nodded and followed Neville to the exit.

"Harry, wait."

Harry's eyes went wide as he turned around and saw it was Hermione who had called after him. Of course it had been her, there was no one else in the greenhouse. Still, Harry was hoping that it would be anyone else. He had managed to avoid talking to her so far and he'd wanted to keep it that way.

"Uh, what is it?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"We need to talk," she said. "In private."

Harry turned to Neville who shrugged in response to his questioning gaze. "I'll wait for you outside," he said. He left the greenhouse and suddenly Harry was alone with some one who absolutely hated him.

"What did you do to him!" Hermione asked as soon as Neville had closed the door behind him, her glare becoming accusatory.

"Me?" Harry asked, taken aback, "I didn't do anything to him."

"When I found him here, he was a wreck and I know you or one of your friends had something to do with it."

Harry contemplated just leaving to get away from Hermione's baseless accusations, but found the need to defend himself too strong. "We didn't do anything to him," he said hotly. "We were practicing the _Ater Aduro_ curse and he freaked out and left."

Harry realized he sounded like Ron, and he wasn't sure that was a good thing.

Hermione folded her arms across her chest, "_Ater Aduro_?" she asked.

Harry nodded.

"We'll that explains everything," she said. "Youforced him to cast a Dark Magic curse when he didn't want to."

"Forced?" Harry asked in disbelief. "He wanted to practice and we helped him. We didn't know he'd react like that. No one else has reacted like that."

"You know why he reacted like that?" Hermione asked. She strode forward suddenly and Harry feared that she was going to hit him. He stood his ground anyway and Hermione stopped when they were standing nearly nose to nose. "Because he's a good person," she whispered fiercely.

She pushed past Harry and left the greenhouse. Harry simply stood in the greenhouse as her words swam through his head. She was wrong. Wrong about so many things. Neville had reacted the way he had because he'd used the thought of his parents to cast the spell, not because he was too good of a person to cast the spell. She said he was a good person like the rest of them who had practiced the spell without a negative reaction were bad people, but that wasn't true either. They weren't bad people just because they could cast a spell. She had made it obvious now that she was one of those people who thought the Dark Arts were evil, and she was wrong about that too.

He exited the greenhouse and found Neville waiting for him outside the door. Neville had actually thought ahead to bring his winter cloak with him and didn't seem to mind standing outside in the cold.

"What was that about?" he asked.

Harry stared up at the castle and he could still make out Hermione's figure as she trudged through the snow. "Nothing," he said.

"I guess I should have stayed in there with you." Neville said as he cast his eyes to the ground.

"Don't worry about it," Harry said. He faced Neville, "Are you okay?"

"Of course, I'm fine," Neville said quickly.

"Hermione didn't bother you?" Harry asked. "She didn't ask you about what we're doing in the castle after hours?"

Neville shook his head, "She didn't even say anything the whole time she was in there. She just went about her work."

"Oh," Harry said with a quizzical expression. He couldn't understand why Granger would spend an entire day in the greenhouses with Neville without saying anything.

"Harry...?" Neville said slowly.

Harry focused on Neville, "Yeah?"

"I … While I was gardening I decided," he paused. His eyes darted every which way, looking every where but at Harry. "I decided that I don't won't to practice _Ater Aduro_ anymore."

Neville had spoken so quickly that Harry almost didn't understand him. He raised a questioning brow and said, "But if you don't practice you'll fail your exam."

Neville shrugged, "It's okay. It's like Professor Rätsel said, some people just don't get the Dark Arts. I'm just not as good at it as you are."

Harry could tell he had been thinking about this a lot. Probably for the entire time he was working in the greenhouses.

"Won't your parents be mad?"

"Yeah. I'll probably have to take remedial lessons and they'll probably hire me a bunch of expensive tutors, but I think this is for the best."

"Whatever you want," Harry said, placing his hand on Neville's shoulder.

Neville smiled, then his stomach rumbled and he giggled.

Harry grinned, "Come on, we can go to the kitchens and grab some food, but first we'll have to go back to the common room. Ron said he'd be sending out search parties if we didn't check-in in ten minutes."

They started walking back to the castle. "He was that worried about me?"

"I think he was more worried about what Granger was doing to you."

"Oh."

**

* * *

**

Harry leaned against a wall with the rest of the first year Dark Arts class. Rätsel had told them to wait outside the classroom while he called them in one by one to attempt the _Ater Aduro_ curse for their end of term exam. Lavender Brown had been first and she had come out of the class room looking slightly disappointed. After that it had been Seamus' turn. He strode into the class room with a grin on his face and his chest puffed out and walked out a few minutes later in exactly the same way.

"Went well?" Dean asked with a smirk as Seamus strode over to him.

"Of course."

Harry smiled at his friend. Seamus wasn't exactly known for his academic prowess, so mastering _Ater Aduro _was something he was very proud of himself for.

"Granger," Rätsel said, looking down at a piece of parchment. "Do you actually wish to attempt the exam or should I just fail you right now?"

"I'll take that failing grade, Professor," Hermione said, smug in her tone.

Rätsel grunted and marked something on his parchment.

"Why did she even bother showing up?" Ron whispered loudly.

"I imagine for the same reason she shows up to class every day," Harry said, well aware that Granger could hear him.

"And why's that?"

Harry shrugged, "Why don't you ask her yourself?"

Ron turned to face Hermione who refused to look at him. She stared forward with her arms crossed and a glare on her face. Ron shook his head and turned back to face Harry.

"Longbottom," Rätsel barked, causing Neville to nearly jump out of his skin. "You're up next."

Neville looked to his friends for support and Harry gave him smile. Honestly, Harry wasn't sure why Neville had bothered to show up for the exam either. He hadn't practiced at all in the past two weeks. He had already resigned himself to a failing grade despite the fact that his friends had tried to talk him out of it. At least he wasn't making as big a deal out of it as Granger.

Neville slowly stepped forward and entered Ratsel's classroom. He came out less than a minute later with his head hung. He walked over to Harry and stood next to him silently.

Rätsel had a displeased look on his face. "Patil!" He barked.

Parvati Patil walked into Ratsel's classroom and walked out a few minutes later looking bubbly and excited. After that it was Sally-Ann Perk's turn. The stoic girl showed no change in emotion after she left Rätsel's classroom. Then it was Harry's turn.

"Potter," Rätsel called.

Harry stepped forward and walked into the classroom. Rätsel closed the door behind him.

"This should be easy for you, Potter," Rätsel said. He sat down behind his desk and gestured to the small wooden block sitting atop it. "Burn it."

Harry pulled out his wand and concentrated. As always he superimposed Snape's face over the wooden block. He was finding it hard to concentrate though. Involuntarily, he kept remembering Neville's 'freakout' after he had first cast the spell. Trying to push the memory from his mind he spoke the incantation, "_Ater Aduro_!"

Nothing happened.

Rätsel frowned, "Something wrong, Potter?"

Harry stared at the unburned wooden block in surprise. "Um, sorry, sir. Can I try again?"

"Very well."

Harry swallowed the lump that had built up in his throat and raised his wand again. He focused again on the block of wood and tried to superimpose an image Snape's face on it. Once again, he found it hard to concentrate. His mind kept going back to Neville's reaction when he first preformed the curse. A part of his mind started to wonder if he should react the same way. Hate was a powerful emotion and it had a serious affect on Neville. Should he be so casual with his hate towards Snape? Did the Potions Master deserve it? These thoughts ran through Harry's head and prevented him from casting the curse.

Then another part of his mind spoke up. He remembered every insult Snape had hurled his way, every point he had deducted from Gryffindor. He remembered the hateful glare that was always in Snape's eyes when he looked at him. He came to a realization. Neville might have been uncomfortable with hating his parents, but he had no reason to be uncomfortable with his hate towards Snape. Snape _deserved _his hate. He deserved to burn.

"_Ater Aduro_!"

Black flames leapt from Harry's wand and ate the block of wood in seconds. Harry sighed in relief.

Rätsel clapped. "Very impressive, Mr. Potter."

"Thank you, sir."

"But I would like to see you do something a little more challenging. For some extra credit maybe?" Rätsel reached under his desk and brought out another block of wood. He pointed his wand at the new block of wood and cast an _Engorgio _charm, causing it to swell to five times it's original size. "Do you think you can burn this one?"

Harry nodded. He didn't see why not. It was just another block of wood. It should burn just as well as the first one. He once again raised his wand and superimposed Snape's sneering face over the block of wood. This time he had no problem concentrating When he cast the curse black flames once again leapt out of his wand and attacked the wood. However, this time the flames sputtered out after a few seconds, leaving only a quarter of the wood burned.

Harry's eyes widened. He hadn't expected that to happen.

"Just as I expected," Rätsel said. "If you will recall, Potter, I said you needed to practice your curse on larger objects. I see you did not do that. No matter, it was just extra credit as I said."

"I'm sorry, Professor," Harry said.

"Do not worry about it," Rätsel said with that smile that creeped Harry out. "In fact, I will give you your extra credit if you can tell me why the spell failed."

Harry frowned. He hadn't had a problem concentrating that time, so he wasn't sure. "I don't know, sir," he said.

"Ah, that is too bad," Rätsel said, the smile falling off his face. "The reason the spell failed is because your emotions aren't strong enough. _Ater Aduro _is a very powerful spell, it can burn just about anything if you really want it to, but you have to really want it to. Do you understand my meaning?"

"I think so, sir," Harry said. His hatred of Snape wasn't strong enough to burn larger objects. If he wanted his curse to get stronger, he'd have to find something he hated more than Snape. Or he'd have to start hating Snape even more. It was odd, considering just a few minutes ago he wasn't sure if he should be hating Snape at all.

"Very well," Rätsel said. "One last opportunity for extra credit. I would like you to preform the counter-curse."

"But we never learned it, sir."

"You are about to," Rätsel said. "_Ater Aduro_ can be a very powerful spell, but can also be countered relatively easily. Simply wave your wand thusly," he demonstrated the motions, "and say _Defaeco Aduro_."

Harry practiced the motions a few times.

"Are you ready?" Rätsel asked.

Harry nodded.

Rätsel raised his wand and cast _Ater Aduro_ on the wooden block before him. Harry quickly waved his wand through the motions and cast the counter-curse. The black flames disappeared as soon as the incantation left his lips.

"Bravo, Potter," Rätsel said, wearing that small smile again. "Your classmates won't learn that until after the holiday."

A thought struck Harry. "Isn't it dangerous to teach us the curse without teaching the counter curse, sir?"

Rätsel shook his head, "Most of your classmates can barely burn a small block of wood. They are in no danger of harming themselves or others at the moment. I taught you the counter-curse just now because you are significantly more advanced than they are."

"Thank you, sir."

"The pleasure is all mine, Harry." Rätsel said. He stood from his desk and extended his hand to Harry. After a moments hesitation Harry shook his hand. "It is always a pleasure to teach a student who has so much potential for the Dark Arts."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said again. He knew it wasn't often that Rätsel offered his students praise, and he found himself feeling very proud that he'd earned the honor.

When he stepped out of the classroom, Harry was surprised to note that all of his classmates were staring at him as if he'd grown a second head. Suddenly felling very self-conscious, he walked to Ron and stood next to him.

"Thomas," Rätsel called. Dean stepped out of line and followed Rätsel into the classroom.

Ron turned on Harry as soon as Rätsel closed the door. "What happened in there?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked. He noticed the rest of his classmates were listening in. "I just performed the spell like everyone else."

"Then why were you in there for longer than everyone else?"

That explained why everyone was gawking at him. "Rätsel already knew I could preform the spell," Harry said, "so he asked me to do a couple of other things."

"Like what?" Neville asked.

"Use it on a bigger piece of wood," Harry said. It wasn't the whole truth, but he didn't want to tell everyone that he had had problems casting the curse. He also didn't want them know that he'd learned the counter-curse because he didn't want them to think he was getting special attention.

"Well, that explains a lot," Seamus said.

"What did you guys think I was doing in there for so long?" Harry asked.

"Personally, I thought you had burned down the classroom and were trying to find a way to cover it up," Seamus said with a grin.

Harry laughed and the rest of his classmates joined, except for Hermione Granger. A minute later, Dean came out of Rätsel's classroom looking pleased with himself and explained to his friends that everything had gone good.

"Weasley," Rätsel called.

Harry gave Ron an encouraging smile, but Ron didn't seem to need it as he strode forward full of confidence. "Saved the best for last, Professor," he quipped.

A few people laughed, mostly Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. A minute later and Ron walked out of Rätsel's classroom with a cocky smile on his face.

"You've done a good job," Rätsel said. "At least most of you have. Grades will be mailed to you over holiday. I hope you're ready for next term."

With that the Rätsel closed the door to his classroom and the first years dispersed.

"Well, that's one exam down," Dean said.

"Yeah, and how many more to go?" Seamus asked.

"Too many," Harry said.

**

* * *

**

The rest of the week was filled with last minute cramming for exams and then the exams themselves. Transfiguration ended up being the hardest for Harry. The practical portion of the exam involved transforming a matchstick into a needle. That was easy. The hard part was transforming the needle back into a matchstick. In the end, Harry's matchstick was still shiny and silvery and was a little pointy at one end, but it still looked like a matchstick. He figured that was enough for a passing grade. The really hard part was the written portion of the test. Transfiguration had so many rules and principles and McGonagall had seen fit to test them on all of them. Still, Harry hadn't been studying for the past two weeks for nothing, and at the end of the exam he felt he'd done enough to pass.

History of Magic ended up being Harry's easiest exam. The exam was multiple choice and dealt with the life of Albus Dumbledore and his impact on the Empire and Wizarding society, a subject Harry was very familiar with. Astronomy had been easy as well. Harry still didn't understand the point of the class, but identifying star constellations was easy enough. Harry's Potions exam, the one he had been most worried about, went a lot better than he'd expected. Snape merely wrote their instructions on the board and left them alone to their work. Harry found potion making a lot easier without Snape hurling insults at him the entire time. His Charms exam also went fairly well.

Harry's Defense exam was his last of the term. It featured both a written and practical portion. The written portion presented them with dangerous situations and asked them what their most logical course of action would be in that situation. The practical portion involved Professor Lupin taking them out onto the Hogwarts grounds and pitting them against small pests such as Cornish Pixies and Bowtruckle's. Afterwards, Lupin invited the entire class to have lunch with him by the lake to celebrate the end of term.

Now that he had finished with his exams, Harry was in his dorm packing his trunk, as the train to Platform 9 and ¾ would be leaving from Hogsmeade station in an hour. Ron leaned against his own bedpost with his arms crossed and watched Harry pack.

"You promise you'll start searching the castle again?" Harry asked as he dug under his bed for lost articles of clothing.

Ron rolled his eyes, "I promise," he said.

Harry found a lost sock under his bed and tossed it into his trunk. "Sorry," he said, "I'm just worried that Riddle will find Dumbledore's Treasure before we even get a chance to know what it is."

"Don't worry about it," Ron said. "You and Neville are the only two leaving. Dean, Seamus and I will have plenty of time to search the castle. I might even be able to get Fred and George to help."

"Do you really think they would help?" Harry asked as he packed away the last of his things and struggled to get the lid of his trunk closed.

Ron shrugged, "The castle's going to be mostly empty. It's not like they've got anything better to do."

Harry opened his mouth to say something but was cut off as there was a loud crack and an elf appeared in the middle of the room.

"Young master, young master!" the elf said, bobbing up and down on it's toes. "Bibby has come to deliver you news about Dumbledore's treasure!"

Harry shared a shocked look with Ron. He had forgotten that he'd told the elf to inform him of anything else he'd heard regarding Dumbledore's Treasure.

"What did you hear?" Harry asked.

"Bibby was cleaning out Master Headmaster's office when he overheard Master Headmaster tell Master Snape to start searching for Dumbledore's treasure during the holidays, sir!"

Harry shared another shocked look with Ron. Before he could question Bibby, the elf continued speaking.

"Also, sirs, Master Headmaster said that Dumbledore's Treasure isn't a treasure at all, sirs. It is a weapon!"

"A weapon?" Ron asked disbelief.

Bibby nodded enthusiastically, "Yes, young master. Master Headmaster said that it is a most powerful weapon that could mean the end of the Empire if it falls into the wrong hands!"

Harry's jaw dropped, "Is that all you heard?" he asked.

"Yes sir, young master, sir," Bibby said. "Is that not enough?"

"No, no. That's enough," Harry said, still trying to wrap his mind around this new information.

"Then if you will be pardoning me, young master, I must be getting back to work," and with that said the elf disappeared with another loud crack.

"A weapon?" Ron asked in the elf's absence.

"It doesn't make sense," Harry said.

"Maybe Dumbledore hid it in the castle to keep it away from his enemies?"

"Maybe," Harry said. "But then why wouldn't he tell the Headmaster about it?"

Ron shrugged, "Maybe he doesn't trust the Headmaster?"

Harry nodded slowly. It made sense, even if just barely. Riddle and Dumbledore had fought together to make the Empire. Riddle had been the general of Dumbledore and Grindelwald's armies. He couldn't think of a reason why Dumbledore wouldn't trust Headmaster Riddle, but he also couldn't think of any other reason why Dumbledore would hide a powerful weapon at Hogwarts without telling the Headmaster.

Harry sighed and tried to clear his head. He just had to hope that everything would make sense when they actually found the weapon. Plus, there was something else more urgent that Bibby had mentioned.

"The elf said that Snape is going to be searching on the seventh floor," Harry said.

Ron nodded, "That'll definitely make things more interesting."

Harry groaned and fell back on his bed, "Now I wish I didn't have to go home."

Ron chuckled. "Come on," he said. "We've got to tell the others"

**

* * *

**

A couple of hours later and the Hogwarts Express was pulling into Platform 9 and ¾. Harry and Neville had secured a compartment to themselves and had spent the entire train ride discussing the possibilities of what Dumbledore's Weapon was and why he had chosen to hide it at Hogwarts without telling the Headmaster. By the time they had gathered their luggage and gotten off the train they still had no idea what was going on, but they were determined to continue the search once they got back to the castle. Harry was hoping that Ron wouldn't find anything so that he wouldn't miss the discovery of the Weapon.

Neville and Harry parted ways and Harry found his parents amongst the crowd of other parents waiting for their children. His mother rushed to him and wrapped him in a tight hug as soon as she saw.

"It's barely been a month since you've seen me, mum," Harry said, his voice muffled as his face was buried in his mother's shoulder.

His mother pulled away with a smile and wiped a tear from her eye. "That doesn't mean I didn't miss you," she said.

"It's good to have you back home, son," his father said, patting him on the shoulder.

Harry smiled and followed his parents out to the parking lot. He was going to miss Hogwarts, but in all the chaos of school life he had actually forgotten how much he missed home. When they got to their car in the parking lot, Harry's father helped him put his trunk in the boot of the car.

"You know, dad, I'm friends with Ron Weasley," Harry said to his father as he noticed the _Weasley __Automotive _insignia on the back of the car.

"That's good," his father said as he closed the trunk and walked to the driver's seat. "Maybe his dad can send us a new car for Christmas."

Harry chuckled, "What's wrong with this one?"

"Nothing, but I certainly wouldn't mind having two cars."

Harry laughed again and climbed into the back seat. His father started up the car with a tap on his wand and took off into the sky.

"So, are you going to tell him or should I?" His dad asked his mother.

"Tell me what?" Harry asked.

"Dumbledore invited us to his Christmas party," his mother said, not sounding very enthused about the idea.

Harry, on the other hand, was ecstatic. "Really? That's great! We're going, aren't we?"

His mother sighed, "Yes, we're going."


	7. Chapter 7

Book I

Chapter 7

The Greater Good

When Harry woke up on Christmas morning, his first instinct was to run to his parents' room and wake them so he could open his presents. He was prevented from doing this because the first thing he noticed when he woke up was that there was a piece of parchment stuck to his face. He pulled the parchment from his face and held it before his eyes. The sun had barley risen and his room was still dark, so he grabbed his wand off his nightstand and cast _Lumos_. He recognized the handwriting on the parchment as his father's.

_Happy Christmas, Harry, _the note read, _Come down to the shed to get your first present. Don't wake your mother._

Harry furrowed his brow in confusion. His father was well known for his pranks, but surely he wouldn't prank his son on Christmas morning. Or would he? Regrettably, the only way for Harry to find out was to follow the note's instructions and meet his father in the shed. He climbed out of bed, stuffed the note in his pocket and grabbed his glasses off the nightstand. He put on his cloak and snuck out of his room. His mother's room was further down the hall, but she was a light sleeper so he took extra precaution in sneaking down the stairs.

Once at the bottom of the stairs, he did his best to ignore the Christmas tree in the living room. The bounty of gifts underneath it was tempting, but he knew he couldn't open them until his parents were awake, and he had to figure out what his father wanted first. He walked through the kitchen and slunk out the back door. He pulled his cloak tight around his body to fight off the morning chill. The shed was at the far end of the backyard and the door was closed. He had seen his father spending a lot of time over the winter holiday in the shed. When Harry asked him what he was doing in there he would only say that he was working on a secret project. Even his mother didn't know what it was. Now, Harry was wondering if the project his father had been spending so much time on was his Christmas gift.

He approached the shed and cautiously opened the door. He still hadn't ruled out the possibility that his father was playing a Christmas prank on him. When he entered the shed he found that it was empty. The place was a complete mess. His father's work bench was covered with a white sheet. The floor was littered with Quidditch magazines. The shelves on the walls were stacked with out of place tools and what seemed to be random pieces of wood. The portions of the walls that weren't covered with shelves were plastered with pictures and diagrams of broomsticks.

Harry walked to his father's workbench and grabbed the white sheet covering it.

"Don't touch anything," a badly disguised voice said from behind him.

Harry whipped around and scanned the empty shed. "Dad?" he asked the empty air.

The door to the shed swung closed, apparently of its own accord. Harry pulled his wand out of the waistband of his pajamas and brandished it in the air. He was certain now that his father was playing a joke on him. He wasn't sure how holding his wand out was going to help, but he felt safer with it in his hands.

"Now, what are you going to do with that?" his dad asked. The air shimmered where the voice came from and his dad's head appeared floating in the air. "Happy Christmas, Harry," he said with a grin.

Harry sighed in relief and dropped his wand to his side. At least it seemed like his father wasn't going to be playing a joke on him this morning. "Happy Christmas, dad," he said with a grin of his own.

"I suppose you're wondering why I lead you down here?" his father asked.

"Your note said you were going to give me my first present," Harry said.

His father nodded. "And do you have any idea what that might be?"

Harry shook his head.

"It's something very important to me." The air shimmered again as his father completely removed his Invisibility Cloak. "It was passed down to me from my father, who received it from his father, who received it from his father and so on and so forth as far back as anyone can remember. Giving it up is going to be hard, but I know you'll have more fun with it than I will."

His father paused, presumably for dramatic effect, and Harry couldn't keep his excitement contained, "What is it?"

His father held out his shimmering Invisibility Cloak and said, "It's my Invisibility Cloak!"

Harry's jaw dropped. He had been expecting something great, but he hadn't been expecting that. He couldn't believe it, he kept thinking it had to be a joke. "You're joking," he said after gaping at his father for nearly a minute.

"Nope," his father said. He tossed the cloak to Harry, who just barely managed to catch it. "It's all yours now."

"But, but," Harry said, unable to wrap his mind around such a magnificent gift.

"You'll have more use for it at Hogwarts than I'll have for it here at home," his father said, "Plus, there's more than one way too make yourself invisible."

"But what about mum?" Harry asked.

"Well, she didn't want me to give you the cloak until you were at least seventeen, but what she doesn't know won't hurt her, right?"

"Right!" Harry said with an enthusiastic nod.

"That's my boy," his father said, reaching out and ruffling his hair. "Now, let's get back in the house before your mother wakes up and notices we're missing."

They left the shed together and snuck back into the house. All the while, Harry clutched to his new Invisibility Cloak as if he was afraid someone would steal it from him. He dashed to his room and stashed the Invisibility Cloak in the bottom of his trunk while his father roused his mother from bed. They gathered in the living room and spent the rest of the morning opening presents, though nothing else Harry received that morning measured up to the Invisibility Cloak.

**

* * *

**

His mother was beautiful. Harry had never been more aware of this fact than as he watched his mother pace back and forth in the living room. She was wearing dark emerald dress robes that matched her eyes. Her ruby hair was pulled into an elegant bun and she was wearing just enough make-up to highlight her already pretty face. And yet, despite how beautiful she looked, there was a worried frown on her face that ruined the whole image.

"You're going to give yourself wrinkles, dear," James said as he trotted down the stairs. He was dressed in simple black dress robes. His hair was an untamed mess. He grinned at his wife, but she didn't share in his good spirits.

"You could at least _try_ to do something with your hair," she snapped. She stopped pacing in favor of facing her husband with her arms crossed.

James ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up further. "How's it look now?"

Lily sighed and resumed pacing. "Why do I even bother anymore?" she said, speaking to herself.

James stopped grinning. "Lily, what's the matter?" he asked. "I know you're not really mad about my hair. You gave up trying to fix that ages ago."

"You know what the problem is," she said. She stopped pacing again and leveled a glare at her husband. Harry began to feel uneasy, he didn't like seeing his mother angry.

"It's just a party, Lily," his father said, his voice even in the face of his wife's fury.

"It's not _just_ a party, James," his mother said, "It's _Dumbledore's _party."

"It's still just a party," his father said, "What's the worst that could happen?"

Lily's only response was to continue glaring. To his credit, James didn't back down. They locked into a staring match that lasted for over a minute and probably would have lasted longer if Harry hadn't interrupted it by clearing his throat. His parents turned to him with surprise written across their faces. It seemed as if they had forgotten about him in the heat of their argument.

"We're going to be late," he said.

His parents shared a look before turning back to him.

"Sorry about that, son," his father said, grinning again. "Are you ready to go?"

Harry nodded. He had been waiting for Dumbledore's Christmas party all day. After opening presents it was the only thing he could think about. He hadn't talked to Dumbledore since the Welcoming Feast and he was eager to talk to him again.

"Lily? You ready to go?"

She nodded as well. She had a strange look in her eyes that Harry didn't quite understand. He understood that she didn't want to go to Dumbledore's party, but he didn't understand why. Maybe she just thought she wouldn't have fun?

James clapped his hands together, "Then what are we waiting for? Let's go!"

Harry smiled and offered his mother his hand, "Come on, mum," he said, "I'm sure the party will be fun."

His mother smiled back and took his hand. Together they followed his father as he lead the way out the front door and into the cold December night. They followed the path through their lawn to the main road. Dumbledore was hosting his party in his cottage, which was just a quick walk down the road from the Potter's cottage. As they walked in silence, Harry noticed his mother's palm sweating. Was she nervous? He figured that could be why she didn't want go to Dumbledore's party. He couldn't blame her for being nervous around Dumbledore. He remembered when he had first met the man he had been nervous as well. Of course, he had only been five at the time and had quickly learned that there was nothing to be nervous about around Dumbledore.

These thoughts occupied Harry for the entirety of the walk to Dumbledore's cottage. The cottage looked ordinary from outside. Not unlike any of the other cottages in the village. Harry had been in Dumbledore's home before, though it had been years since the last time. He remembered the inside being just as ordinary as the outside. Harry and his mother followed his father up the path to the front door. His father hesitated before knocking.

"Remember," he said, "It's just a party, so have fun."

Harry knew he was talking to his mother and she had no verbal response. He did notice that her grip on his hand tightened. His father raised his fist and knocked on the door twice. It was as he was about to knock a third time that the door flew open revealing Dumbledore himself standing on the other side. He was dressed in expensive-looking purple dress robes.

"Ah, the family Potter," Dumbledore said, welcoming Harry's family into his home with a sweeping gesture. "So nice of you to accept my invitation."

"It's an honor to be invited, sir," James said with a slight bow. Harry and his mother bowed as well, though Harry noticed a rigidness to his mother's bow.

"No need for such formality, friends," Dumbledore said with a genial smile. "It is a party after all!"

Harry and his father laughed. His mother remained quiet.

"Come now," Dumbledore said, leading them further into the entrance hall, "Let me give you the grand tour. This is the entrance hall of course, nothing special to see here."

Harry silently disagreed. On the outside, Dumbledore's cottage was ordinary, but the inside was anything but. The entrance hall alone seemed bigger than his family's entire house. The walls were adorned with golden candelabras and suits of armor so shiny that he could see his reflection in them. A lush Persian rug, red with gold trim, covered the oaken floors. Harry didn't remember Dumbledore's house looking so nice the last time he'd been there.

"Over here we have the ballroom," Dumbledore said, leading them to a set of double doors at the end of the entrance hall. Harry, so caught up in gaping at the exquisite entrance hall, barley had time to register the fact that Dumbledore hadn't had a ball room last time he'd been in his house. "This is where the party will be taking place."

Dumbledore opened the double doors and revealed a sight that took Harry's breath away. The ballroom was large, larger than should have been possible. He knew there was magic to fit large spaces into small spaces, but this was just ridiculous. The ceiling of the ballroom, which was made of glass, was higher than the ceiling of Hogwart's Great Hall. Hanging from the ridiculously high ceiling was an equally ridiculous sized glass chandelier. The floor was made of marble that had been polished to such a sheen that Harry could see his reflection in it. The walls were covered with decorative marble pillars and arches.

Harry noticed all of his before even noticing the guests in the ballroom. There were at least a hundred well-dressed witches and wizards milling about the room. There was a string quartet playing in a corner of the room and a section of the floor was reserved for dancing. There were small, round tables on one side of the room for guests to eat at. A group of at least two dozen muggle servants darted about the room carrying trays of food and drinks.

Harry heard his mother make a strange sound in her throat. Before he could ask her if something was bothering her, his father spoke.

"Quite the place you've got here," he said with a wry smile though his eyes held a look of unease.

"Indeed," Dumbledore said. "Now, come along. I've got to introduce you to the rest of the guests."

"That won't be necessary, sir," Lily said, "I'm sure you've got more important matters to attend to."

"Nonsense," Dumbledore said with a wave of his hand, "It is my most important duty as both a good host and a good neighbor. Now, come along."

Dumbledore lead them around the ballroom and introduced them to dozens of people. Many of them were rich business men or important politicians. The type of people Harry normally would have been nervous meeting, but Dumbledore barley gave them time to say hello before he dragged them off to the next person he wanted them to meet. His father took it all in stride, but he could see his mother getting more aggravated with each new person they were introduced to.

Dumbledore's whirlwind tour came to a stop as he brought them before a woman dressed from head to toe in pink. Pink shoes, pink dress robes, pink gloves and a pink hat. The only non-pink things she wore were the large black bow in her hair and the multitude of gaudy silver rings that adorned her stubby fingers. The woman had a distinct look that made Harry think she had to be part toad, and she was flanked by two imposing wizards in black robes.

"Here is a person truly worth meeting," Dumbledore said, leaving Harry to wonder why he had introduced them to all of those people if they weren't worth meeting.

"Lord Dumbledore," the pink woman said in a sugary tone. She and her two bodyguards bowed. "We had been wondering where you'd gotten off to."

"Just attending to a few guests, Dolores," Dumbledore said. "Dolores, these are my neighbor's: the Potters. James, Lily, Harry, this is Dolores Umbridge, Minister of Great Britain. "

The woman laughed a high pitched laugh that caused Harry to cringe, "Oh, Dumbledore, I'm sure they already know who I am," she said.

Harry did not know who she was and after meeting her he wished it could have stayed that way. He knew that there was a British Minister, of course, but he'd never paid attention to who it was.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," James said, extending his hand.

"Of course it is," Umbridge said, ignoring his hand. She turned to Dumbledore and said, "Dumbledore, sir, I have been needing to talk to you about some very important matters."

"Of course, dear," Dumbledore said, "But first I must find Gellert. I'm sure he'd be delighted to meet the Potter family."

Harry's eyes went wide. They were going to meet the Emperor?

"I believe I saw him wander off not too long ago," Umbridge said, barley hiding her annoyance at being put off by Dumbledore. "I thought he was looking for you."

"Ah, I imagine he's in one of his moods," Dumbledore said. "If you'll excuse me Dolores, Potter family, I must find him before he curses someone."

Harry laughed, but Dumbledore didn't seem to be joking for once. The old wizard walked off and Harry lost sight of him in the crowd. Umbridge watched him walk off with a frown on her toad-like face. She turned to the Potters and cast an appraising gaze at them. After a moment of scrutiny she scoffed and left with her body guards.

"Charming woman," James said, he turned to the rest of his family. "Come on, let's go find a place to sit down."

Harry, still holding his mother's hand, followed his father as he navigated through the crowd of party guests. They found an empty table at the far side of the ballroom and sat down. As soon as they had sat a muggle servant approached their table. The muggle was a bald, middle-aged man who was sickly thin.

"What can I get for you?" he asked with a yellowed smile.

"Nothing for us, thanks," Lily said instantly.

The servant nodded and shuffled off to the next table.

"Mum," Harry whined, "I wanted some pumpkin juice."

"We have pumpkin juice at home," his mother said.

"We're not at home."

"We will be soon," his mother said. She turned to her husband.

"We just got here, Lily," he said.

"I refuse to stay here any longer," Lily said. "We made our appearance. We made nice with these people. We've got no reason to stick around."

"I don't want to leave yet," Harry said, but his mother ignored him.

"If we leave now it'll look suspicious," James said, dropping his voice to a whisper.

Lily glared at her husband. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it before any words came out. She cast a furtive glance in Harry's direction. Harry frowned, not entirely sure what was going on between his parents. His mother grabbed his father's hand and they both stood up from the table.

"Your father and I are going to dance," his mother said, still glaring at his father. "Stay here until we get back."

Harry received an apologetic look from his father as his mother marched him towards the dance floor. Alone, Harry could only wonder what was going on between his parents. His mother didn't want to be at Dumbledore's party, but he still couldn't figure out why. One thing that was apparent was that his mother was getting angrier the more time she spent at the party. As much as he wanted to see Dumbledore, Harry was starting to think it was best if they did leave the party if only so his mother would stop being so angry.

"Is there a problem, young sir?"

Harry was shaken from his thoughts as another muggle servant addressed him. This one was female and much younger than the one from before. She was probably only a few years older than Harry. Her dark hair was a tangled mess and her skin held an unhealthy pale color.

"No, there's no problem," Harry said. " But do you think you could bring me some pumpkin juice?"

"Of course, young sir," the servant said with a quick bow. She shuffled off and returned a minute later with a goblet of pumpkin juice. Harry accepted the drink with a grateful smile.

"Thank you."

The servant seemed shocked for a moment before replying, "The pleasure was mine, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Harry shook his head and took a sip of his pumpkin juice. The servant walked off to deal with other patrons. Harry gazed out at the dance floor and saw his parents were still dancing. There was an angry look on his mother's face and his father was frowning. Their lips were moving quickly. It was obvious to Harry that they were arguing though he couldn't tell about what. That at least explained why his mother had been so eager to dance. She didn't like him to hear them arguing.

"Ah, there you are, Harry."

Harry turned and saw Dumbledore approaching him. He greeted the old wizard with a smile.

"Where are your parents?" Dumbledore asked as he pulled up a chair and sat next to Harry.

"They're dancing," Harry said. "I think my mum's mad about something."

Dumbledore glanced at the dance floor and nodded, "I suspected she would be."

"What do you mean, sir?"

"Your mother is and always has been a very angry woman," Dumbledore said. "And I fear her anger is at least partially caused by myself."

"Why do you say that?" Harry couldn't imagine why his mother would be angry with Dumbledore. As far as he knew she barley knew him. At least she didn't know him as well as he did.

"Your mother is a muggleborn," Dumbledore said. He stroked his beard thoughtfully for a moment before continuing, "As such, she was obviously raised as a muggle. I'm sure I don't need to explain to you that muggles do not live very fulfilling lives."

Harry nodded. "But she's a witch now, she doesn't have to live like a muggle anymore."

"Indeed, but that doesn't erase what she went through as a child," Dumbledore said. "I'm afraid she blames me, and Gellert of course, for her rough up bringing. She will probably never forgive us."

Harry frowned and crossed his arms. His own mother didn't like Dumbledore? He couldn't believe it. If his friends found out they'd think his family was weird.

"Do not be angry with your mother," Dumbledore said. "The greater good requires sacrifice above all else. Your mother does not understand that."

"I understand it, sir," Harry said with a smile. Dumbledore had explained the greater good to him a long time ago when they had first met. Muggles and wizards could not live together as equals, so muggles had to live beneath wizards. This is what Harry believed because it was what Dumbledore had taught him.

"Of course you understand," Dumbledore said with a smile though his eyes didn't twinkle as usual. "So, do you think your mother would be mad if I stole you for a moment?"

Harry looked out to the dance floor where his parents were still dancing and arguing. "Probably," he said.

"Then I'll have to do my best to have you back before she notices," Dumbledore said, standing up from the table, "Unless, you'd prefer to sit here?"

Harry looked over to the dance floor, his parents were still arguing. Figuring they wouldn't notice he was gone, he stood up and followed Dumbledore. Dumbledore led him through a door behind the dining area and into the kitchen. The kitchen was large, at least larger than the kitchen in Harry's home, but almost every inch of available space was taken up by a stove or a counter. Muggle servants darted about preparing food, but as soon as Dumbledore entered the room they stopped what they were doing and bowed deeply.

"As you were," Dumbledore said, leading Harry through the kitchen. The muggle servants went back to their business, though they all made an effort to stay out of Dumbledore's way.

"Where are we going, sir?" Harry asked.

"There was one other person I wanted you to meet, remember?"

Harry's eyes widened. "Emperor Grindelwald?"

"Yes, unless you wouldn't like to meet him."

Harry hesitated before speaking. "He's not going to curse me, is he?"

Dumbledore smiled down at Harry. "Not while I'm around."

They reached the back of the kitchen and Dumbledore led Harry through another door. They stepped through the door and into the cold night air of the backyard. The backyard was entirely featureless save for a stone bench at its far end. Sitting on the bench was an old wizard with a wild mane of gray hair and a long beard to match (though not as long as Dumbledore's). His facial features were well-defined; high cheekbones and a sharp nose though his most noticeable trait by far were his eyes. They were golden and glowed in the darkness like those of a cat. As those eyes fell upon Harry, he felt as if he were being measured or judged. Despite Dumbledore's words of assurance earlier, Harry felt scared.

Dumbledore seemed to sense this, as he reached out and grabbed Harry by the shoulder. He led Harry closer to the old wizard, but the closer Harry got the more afraid he became. The air surrounding the old wizard was thick, making it hard for him to draw breath. Every step he took towards the wizard felt as if he were walking through molasses. By the time he came to a stop a foot away from the wizard every instinct in his body was screaming at him to run away, but he couldn't. He was paralyzed by fear.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, "I'd like you to meet Gellert Grindelwald, Emperor of Magic."

Harry couldn't speak. He knew he had to say something, but fear had hold of his tongue. He stared into the Emperor's golden eyes and couldn't look away. The Emperor seemed to radiate an aura of pure terror that had wrapped itself around Harry and refused to let him go.

"It is customary," Grindelwald said, his voice held a heavy German accent, "To bow before your Emperor."

Harry's legs shook and fell out from underneath him. He landed on one knee and bowed his head. He worked his mouth up and down, trying to form an apology to save himself from the Emperor's ire, but he couldn't find the words.

"Albus, why do you bring this whelp before me?" Grindelwald asked.

"This is Harry Potter," Dumbledore said, "My neighbor and friend. I would appreciate it if you would stop intimidating him."

Grindelwald grunted and Harry felt the air around him change. He stopped shaking, he let out a deep breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. His mind was no longer muddled up with fear and he could think clearly. Had he been under some kind of spell? He raised his head and looked into the eyes of the Emperor, which were still glowing slightly.

"Sorry, sir," Harry stuttered, his voice hoarse for some reason.

The Emperor grunted again. He stood up and swept past Harry. Harry remained on the ground in front of the bench until he heard the sound of the back door opening and closing, then he raised himself off the ground and sat on the bench. He let out another deep breath and looked up at Dumbledore.

"Is he always like that?" he asked, his voice shaking.

"Regrettably," Dumbledore said. He stared at the door that Grindelwald had went through with a thoughtful expression.

Harry ran a hand through his hair. What had been the point of all that? Why had the Emperor saw fit to scare him like that? Dumbledore had to have known Grindelwald would treat him like that, so why had he brought him out here? Harry thought about asking Dumbledore all of these questions, but he didn't want to sound ungrateful. Terrifying experience that it was, Dumbledore had just introduced him to the most powerful man in the world. Not many eleven year olds had that honor. He knew his friends would be impressed, at least. Still, he did have one question he had to ask, for clarifications sake.

"Was it a spell?"

"Something like that," Dumbledore said. "If you wish to avoid it in the future, I'd suggest against looking him the eyes."

"Would have been nice if you had told me that before," Harry said, trying not to sound angry.

"It only affects those who are already afraid of him," Dumbledore said, looking down at Harry. The look in Dumbledore's eyes gave Harry the impression that he was being chastised. He looked away, feeling ashamed even though he knew he shouldn't. Of course he was afraid of the most powerful wizard in the world. Who wouldn't be? But then he already had his answer. Dumbledore wasn't afraid of Grindelwald. The spell hadn't worked on him.

"Come now," Dumbledore said, "We should return to the party if you don't wish for your mother to notice you're gone."

Harry stood up and followed Dumbledore back into the house. As they walked through the kitchen, Harry noticed many of the muggles looking unnaturally pale. A few of the younger ones had tears in their eyes. It seemed that Emperor Grindelwald had passed through and given them a healthy dosage of his 'charm'. When they got back to Harry's table, he was relieved to note that his parents weren't there. Maybe they hadn't noticed he was gone? He looked out to the dance floor, but he didn't see them there either.

"It has been an interesting night," Dumbledore said, "But I'm afraid the rest of my party guests will become jealous if I ignore them for too much longer."

"I understand, sir," Harry said, "Thank you for-er-introducing me to the Emperor. It was-" he paused, "-an experience."

"That it was," Dumbledore said with a smile, "Enjoy the rest of the party, Harry."

"I will, sir," Harry said, waving to Dumbledore as he walked away and disappeared into a crowd of party guests.

Harry sat down at his table and grabbed his goblet of pumpkin juice. It was warm now, but that didn't stop him from taking a drink from it. His throat still felt a little hoarse from his meeting with the Emperor.

"Harry?"

Harry winced. It was his mother that had called his name and she didn't sound happy. He turned around in his chair and faced her with a forced smile. "Hey, mum," he said with forced cheer.

"Where have you been?" his mother asked, her arms crossed, "Your father and I have been looking all over for you!"

"I was-er-I was in the bathroom," Harry said. His mother's gaze was skeptical, and he found himself wishing he was a better liar.

Whether or not his mother bought his story didn't matter as she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of his chair. "We're leaving," she said and she pulled him away from the dining area and towards the doors to the entrance hall.

"What about dad?" Harry asked. The idea of protesting had come to his mind initially, but he knew it was pointless. His mother was determined to leave the party. It didn't bother Harry too much. He had come to the party to talk with Dumbledore again and he had done that, though he hadn't accomplished much.

"Your father can find his own way home," his mother said, keeping her voice down as they passed a group of party guests.

They reached the double doors that lead to the entrance hall and his mother threw them open. That was when the screaming started. A high-pitched, blood curdling scream. The scream managed to fill the entire ball room, quieting all the guests. It sent a shiver down Harry's spine. He whipped around and tried to find the source of the screaming. It sounded like it was coming from the center of the ballroom, but there were too many guests around. He couldn't see anything. Some of the guests were running away from the screaming, but some of them were walking towards it almost casual in their gait.

Harry's mother scanned the party, then turned back to the entrance hall, then looked down at her son. "Wait here, Harry," she said, pulling her wand out of a fold in her robes.

"But mum-"

"Please, Harry," his mother said, "Wait here. I'll be right back."

Harry nodded and his mother jogged back into the ballroom, heading towards the source of the screaming. Harry stood and waited just like his mother had told him, trying to ignore the scream and finding it impossible. He felt foolish just standing around. He was a Gryffindor; bravery and courage were his traits. He should have went with his mother to investigate the scream. Someone could be hurt or worse and he was just standing around. His mother had told him to wait, but he was a Potter and they didn't often listen to authority figures. That was what made Harry's decision for him. He pulled out his wand and followed his mother's path towards the center of the ballroom.

He pushed pass other party guests as he made his way towards the screaming. The closer he got, the louder the screaming became and his resolve began to wager. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea? He didn't know what he was doing, after all. Those worries were quickly squashed down by his Gryffindor spirit as he continued working his way closer to the source of the scream. When he reached the epicenter of the scream, he found his mother and stood next to her. Then he saw who was screaming.

It was a muggle girl. Harry vaguely recognized her as the one who had brought him pumpkin juice. She writhed on the floor, her face contorted into an expression of absolute agony. Standing above her was Emperor Grindelwald. The Emperor had his wand pointed at the girl and there was a look of malice in his golden eyes.

Harry's hand went limp and his wand clattered to the floor. The Emperor turned to him with those golden eyes, all the while still torturing the muggle girl, and Harry found himself trapped in the same terror spell from before. His breath quickened, his heart raced, and the only thing he could think was that he was next. The Emperor was going to turn his wand on him and torture him next.

Then a hand fell over Harry's eyes, delicate and warm. He felt himself being pulled away from the screaming girl. The people in the crowd of party guests whispered loudly; some even shouted at him. Harry couldn't understand what they were saying. His mind was still caught up in what he'd seen. The look of agony on that girl's face had been horrifying; almost as bad as looking into Grindelwald's eyes. He continued to to let himself be dragged until he felt the cool kiss of the night air and the hand dropped from his eyes. Looking around, he saw that he was at the front door of Dumbledore's cottage. It was his mother who had covered his eyes and dragged him from the house, and now she knelt before him with tears in her eyes. She leaned forward and wrapped him in a hug. Harry couldn't find the will to hug his mother back. He accepted her hug as one question ran through his mind.

"Why?"

His mother had no answer, she just hugged him harder.

**

* * *

**

Harry and his mother walked back to their home in silence. As soon as they entered the house, Harry was sent straight to bed by his mother and he didn't protest. His father arrived home a few minutes later and came into his room to wish him goodnight. His mother came in after that.

"Are you all right?" she asked, her voice was soft.

Harry shook his head.

His mother knelt down next to his bed and stroked his hair. "I know it was horrible what you saw," she said, "But you need to try and sleep."

Harry felt like he'd never sleep again. He couldn't get the girl's screaming out of his mind. He couldn't get the girl's agonized face out of his mind. Worst of all, he couldn't get Grindelwald's glowing gold eyes out of his mind.

"I'll try," Harry said, choosing not to tell his mother any of this.

She leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek, then she stood up and walked towards the door.

"Wait," Harry said. She turned around to face him, "Did you...did you look him in the eyes?"

She nodded.

"Then why weren't you scared?"

"Because I'm not afraid of him," she said, her voice firm.

Harry's eyes widened and he nodded slowly. His mother left the room after bidding him good night and he rolled over and tried to sleep. He still couldn't get the girl's agonized face or her scream out of his head. He still couldn't get Grindelwald's malice filled eyes out of his head. When those eyes had been directed at him he was so sure that he was going to be cursed next. But, there was something else in Harry's mind now: his mother's eyes, vibrantly and beautifully green. Those eyes had met the Emperor's golden ones and she hadn't been afraid. Harry realized that if the Emperor had tried to curse him he wouldn't have succeeded because his mother was there. With that thought prominently in his mind, a sense of comfort fell over him like a warm blanket and he managed to fall asleep.

**

* * *

**

When Harry woke up the morning after a fitful night of sleep, he found a box laying on his nightstand. He grabbed the box and opened it, thinking that it was a belated Christmas gift. What he found inside was his wand. In the chaos of the night before he'd forgotten that he'd dropped it. Also in the box was a note written in the loopy script of Albus Dumbledore.

_Dear Harry, _the note read, _I believe you dropped this last night. I'd like to apologize for what happened at the party. I'm afraid that Gellert's anger can get the best of him sometimes. Unfortunately, the poor muggle girl happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. All the best, Albus Dumbledore._

Harry read the note again with an expression of disbelief. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a frustrated sigh. He crumpled up the the note and tossed it across the room. He believed in Dumbledore, he believed in the greater good, he believed that muggles _had_ to live below wizards. But he didn't believe that muggles deserved to be treated like _that_.

No one deserved to be treated like that.


	8. Chapter 8

Book I

Chapter 8

Magic is Might

The rest of Harry's Winter Break passed without incident. He never talked to his parents about what he saw that night at Dumbledore's Christmas party, and after a while they stopped asking him about it. He found that it was easier to put the whole incident out of his mind if he never talked about it. As days passed, the muggle girl's bloodcurdling scream and agonized face faded from his mind. Emperor Grindelwald's golden eyes still haunted him in his dreams occasionally; stalking him down a long, dark corridor, but always at the end of the dream his mother's vibrant green eyes would show up and chase the Emperor's eyes away. He hadn't talked to Dumbledore since the party; he hadn't even bothered to send him a thank you note for returning his wand. He didn't blame Dumbledore for what Grindelwald had done, but he knew that there was no way Dumbledore could make him feel better about what he'd seen.

Ron helped Harry by providing him with a good distraction to keep his mind off the incident. He sent Harry constant letters to keep him up to date with the situation at Hogwarts. His letters explained that they'd made good progress searching the seventh floor, but still hadn't found a single hint of Dumbledore's Weapon. To make matters worse, not only had Snape been patrolling the seventh floor, but Peeves had taken to causing havoc there and had attracted the attention of Filch. Ron's letters told the tales of how he, Seamus and Dean had nearly been caught by Snape, Filch or Peeves multiple times. Peeves had proven especially hard to avoid, Ron had said, because ghosts didn't show up on the Marauder's Map. Harry knew his Invisibility Cloak would prove useful once he got back to Hogwarts, but he hadn't told Ron about that yet. He wanted to surprise his friends with it.

Ron's letters made Harry yearn to be back at Hogwarts. As much as he loved his parents, and as much as he hated classes, he just couldn't wait to be back at Hogwarts with his friends. So, he began counting down the days until he could go back and before long he found himself standing on Platform 9 and ¾ with his parents.

"Have a good term," his mother said, hugging him tightly. When she pulled back he saw she had tears in her eyes. He was beginning to think she would cry every time he left home.

"We'll see you at your next game," his dad said, taking his turn to hug him.

The Hogwarts Express let out a shrill whistle.

"I think that means I've got to go," Harry said.

His mother kissed him on the cheek and his father ruffled his hair. He grabbed his trunk and pulled it towards the Hogwarts Express.

"Be good!" his mother said.

"Yeah, don't do anything I wouldn't do!" his father said.

Harry looked back and caught a wink from his dad before he boarded the train and couldn't see the platform anymore. Smiling to himself, he walked through the train and looked for Neville, the only one of his friends who was riding back on the Hogwarts Express. He found Neville sitting alone in a compartment at the end of the train.

"Hey, Neville," he said as he entered.

"Oh, hey Harry," Neville said, his voice sounded oddly distracted. "How was your break?"

"It was pretty cool," Harry said as he stowed his trunk in the overhead compartment, "I got a really cool present from my dad, and I got invited to Dumbledore's Christmas party."

"Dumbledore's Christmas party?" Neville questioned, "My parents were invited, but since they were actually home for Christmas this year we decided to just spend the holiday together."

"That must have been nice," Harry said, "Having your parents home for Christmas, I mean."

"Yeah," Neville said. He let his head hang and stared at the ground.

"Is something wrong?"

Neville looked back up and shook his head quickly. "No, no, I just-" he paused, "-I got a new pet."

"Really? What happened to Trevor?"

"He … he ran away, so mum and dad bought me an owl."

"Oh." After all the times Trevor had run away Harry had never considered that the toad might never come back. "Where is it?"

"What?"

"Your owl," Harry said, curiously regarding his friend's odd behavior.

"Oh, I put it up here because it was being a little loud," Neville said. He got out of his seat and reached into the overhead storage compartment. He brought down an owl cage containing a black eagle owl. He held the cage out to where Harry could see it closely.

"Cool," Harry said as the owl regarded him with its yellow eyes, "What's its name?"

Neville shrugged and placed the cage on the seat next to him. "I haven't thought of one yet."

"Is it a boy or a girl?"

"A girl, I think. So, how was Dumbledore's Christmas party?"

Harry got the impression that Neville didn't want to talk too much about his new owl. Unfortunately, he had changed the subject to the one thing Harry didn't want to talk about. He had already decided that he didn't want to tell his friends about what had happened at the Christmas party.

"It was … fun," he said, "I got to meet some interesting people."

"Was the Emperor there?"

Harry fought off a cringe as the mere mention of the Emperor brought forth the image of his terror-instilling eyes. "Yeah, he was there," he said, hoping Neville didn't notice how uneasy his voice sounded, "Dumbledore introduced me to him."

"I asked mum and dad what he was like once. They said he was intimidating."

Harry nodded and wondered to himself if Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom were able to look the Emperor in the eyes. "That's a good way to describe him."

They were silent for a moment, the only sound in the compartment being the sound of Neville's unnamed owl preening.

"Did you get any letters from Ron and the guys?" Harry asked, desperate to get the subject of the conversation away from Dumbledore's Christmas party and the Emperor.

"I got a few from Dean," Neville said, "He said Snape was making things hard for them."

Harry grinned. "I have a feeling Snape's not going to be a problem anymore."

"What makes you say that?" Neville asked, his interest piqued.

"It's a secret," Harry said, grinning wider, "I'll show you and the rest of the guys once we're back in Gryffindor Tower."

The prospect of Harry's secret seemed to distract Neville from the funk he had been in. He spent most of the ride back to Hogwarts enthusiastically quizzing Harry in an attempt to discover his secret. Harry remained tight lipped though and eventually Neville gave up and they started talking about more mundane things.

* * *

Harry and Neville rode in a horseless carriage from Hogsmeade to the doors of Hogwarts. Upon arrival, Harry saw that the front steps of Hogwarts had been swamped by students waiting to greet their friends on return from break. He was able to pick Ron's orange hair out of the crowd almost instantly. He and Neville climbed out of their carriage and rushed to greet their friends.

"Good to see you, mate," Ron said with a smile as he and Harry shook hands, "Have a good holiday?"

"Of course," Harry said, smiling himself. He received a hearty pat on the back from Seamus and Dean greeted him with a nod of his head. Neville took his turn greeting their friends. "How was winter in the castle?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Would have been better if Snape hadn't been breathing down our necks every minute," he said loudly as he turned and lead the way into the Entrance Hall, "If you know what I mean."

"Real subtle," Dean said with a sarcastic twist to his lips.

"Well, Snape's not going to be a problem for us anymore," Harry said as he followed Ron through the Entrance Hall and into the Great Hall where dinner was just getting started.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

"Harry's got some big secret," Neville said, "He won't tell me what it is. All I know is that it involves Snape and searching for-" he continued in a whisper, "-Dumbledore's Weapon."

The boys settled down in their usual spots at Gryffindor table. "Well, out with it already," Ron said, leaning forward with interest, "What's your big secret?"

"It's better if I show you," Harry said.

"Then show us," Seamus said, his voice bordering on excitement and impatience.

Harry shook his head, "Not here. In our room, after dinner."

**

* * *

**

With the prospect of learning Harry's secret looming over their heads, Ron and the others scarfed down their dinner in a matter of seconds. Harry only had enough time to take a few bites of his food before he found himself being dragged away from the table by his friends. They pulled him all the way out of the Great Hall, up the stairs to the seventh floor, into Gryffindor Tower and up into their dorm. Harry didn't really mind. He was just as excited to show off his Invisibility Cloak as his friends were to see it. Once they'd gotten him to their dorm, they waited with expectant looks on their faces.

"Well, where's this secret of yours?" Ron asked.

Harry grinned. "All right, I'll show you, but you've all got to turn around while I get it ready. No peeking!"

His friends begrudgingly turned around. With their backs turned, Harry opened his trunk and dug to where his Invisibility Cloak was stashed on the bottom. He paused to check and make sure his friends weren't peeking before drawing the shimmering cloth out from his trunk and throwing it on.

"Okay, you can turn around now," he said.

They turned around and faced what seemed to be empty air. Harry had to bite down to hold back his laughter as they gazed about with bewildered looks on their faces.

"Harry?" Ron asked, "Where did you go?"

"I'm right here!" Harry shouted, causing Neville to nearly collapse. He pulled down the hood of his cloak and faced his friends with a ridiculously large grin.

Ron's eyes went wide. "No way," he said.

The rest of his friends had similar shocked reactions.

"Is that an Invisibility Cloak?" Neville asked in awe.

Harry nodded. Immediately his friends wanted to try the Cloak on and he was happy to oblige them. They spent the next half-hour taking turns stalking around their dorm room in the cloak and discussing its possible uses. Of course, their first order of business was to use the Cloak to aid in their search for Dumbledore's Weapon. The Cloak was big enough to fit three of them, so Harry, Seamus and Ron were the first team to go out with Dean and Neville waiting until the next night for their turns.

**

* * *

**

Unfortunately, the first night searching the seventh floor using the Invisibility Cloak wasn't much different from any other night searching the seventh floor. Being able to go undetected by Snape and Filch did make the task easier, but Harry had been hoping for something more. He couldn't explain why, but he had been hoping that the Invisibility Cloak would prove to be the one thing they'd been missing the entire time and that it's inclusion in their search would lead to a major breakthrough. It hadn't.

So, it was with a bit of disappointment that Harry walked back to Gryffindor Tower with Ron and Seamus after a few hours of fruitless searching. When they got up to their dorm room they saw that Neville and Dean had already went to sleep. They tiredly bid each other goodnight and crawled into their own beds. Harry was fast asleep as soon as his head hit his pillow, but it wouldn't last long. No sooner had he closed his eyes than he found himself stuck in a long dark corridor. He'd been there before, he knew what was going on. Sure enough, he turned around and saw two pinpricks of golden light steadily approaching him from one end of the corridor. Even from such a distance the golden light of Emperor Grindelwald's eyes were able to instill terror in him.

He took off running down the corridor, but there was no end in sight. Every time he cautioned a look over his shoulder he saw that the Emperor was somehow gaining on him, and the closer the Emperor got the harder Harry found it to run. His heart was pounding against his chest, his breaths were coming quick and sharp; more from the effect the Emperor had on him than exhaustion from running. Eventually, he couldn't run anymore and he fell to his hands and knees. The Emperor's eyes stopped to hover above him, and he felt cold fingers wrap around his heart. He tried to scream out, but no sound would come from mouth.

He'd had this dream before and this was the part where his mother's vibrant green eyes would show up radiating warmth. She would chase the Emperor away and fill the corridor with light. But as Harry writhed on the ground with the Emperor's icy hand wrapped around his heart, he realized that his mother wasn't coming. There was no warmth, no light; just cold and darkness.

Then he woke up; drenched in sweat. His heart was beating so loud he was afraid it'd wake his dorm mates. He observed the darkness of his dorm room with wide, panicked eyes and was relieved to note that there were no golden eyes to be found. Based on the sounds of snoring coming from his dorm mate's beds, he hadn't woken them. He was grateful for that, because he wasn't sure how he'd explain away his bad dream. He couldn't tell them he was having nightmares about the Emperor, they'd think he was weird.

He laid back in his bed and took a few deep breaths to calm himself. He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, but he knew it was late and he needed to wake up for class in the morning. He tried to go back to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes he found himself back in that dark corridor with the Emperor. Figuring that sleep wouldn't come anytime soon, he pulled back the curtains of his bed and put on his slippers. He planned to go to down to the kitchen and grab a late night snack. His friends had pulled him away from dinner before he'd gotten to eat his fill, plus he imagined the elves would only be too happy to fetch him a glass of warm milk to help him sleep. He grabbed the Marauder's Map from his nightstand and dug his Invisibility Cloak out of his trunk. Doing his best not to wake his friends, he snuck out of the room and silently shut the door behind him.

He opened up the Maruader's Map and checked to make sure there was no one in the common room. What he saw gave him a start. According to the map, the common room only had one occupant: Neville Longbottom. He crept down the stairs into the common room and sure enough found Neville sitting in an armchair by the fire. He sat hunched over with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. Harry approached quietly.

"Neville is something wrong?"

Neville sat up quickly and wiped at his eyes. "Oh, hey Harry," he said, his voice sounding strained, "What are you doing up so late?"

"I was on my way to the kitchens to get a snack," Harry said, noticing the tear tracks on Neville's face, "Are you all right?"

With a forced smile, Neville said, "I'm fine. What about you? You look a little pale."

Harry realized he probably did look a little pale, an aftereffect of the nightmare he'd had, but he could also tell Neville was trying to change the subject. "Have you been crying, Neville?"

Neville's forced smile fell off his face. "I ... I ... I..." He groaned and buried his face in his hands again. "I'm sorry," he cried, "I must look like stupid."

Harry lowered himself into a seat across from Neville. "No, no," he said, feeling uncomfortable, "It's okay. What's wrong?"

"It's Trevor," Neville said, his voice obscured as he didn't bother to raise his head from his hands, "I...I miss him."

Harry fought the urge to frown. He was crying over his runaway toad? "Maybe he'll come back. He always did before."

"But he didn't run away!" Neville cried, loud enough that Harry was afraid he might wake someone up. "Mum and dad made me gave him away!"

Harry's eyes widened. "Why would they do that?"

Neville finally raised his head from his hands. He had tears in his eyes. "They said a toad isn't a proper pet for a wizard. They made me give him away and bought me that ruddy owl instead!"

Harry didn't know what to say. He had never heard of parents who forced their children to give up their beloved pets.

"It's not the owl's fault," Neville said, sniffling and wiping his eyes, "I just wished they hadn't forced her on me."

"Well, having an owl has isn't a bad thing," Harry said slowly, because it was the only thing he could think to say, "You can send letters to whoever you want. And as far as I know owls never run away."

He was trying to make a joke to lighten the mood, and he was happy to hear Neville laugh even if it sounded hollow.

"I guess I am being a bit stupid, aren't I?" Neville said, sounding like he didn't know if he meant it.

Harry shrugged. He didn't think Neville was being stupid, he thought he had every right to be sad, or even mad, that his parents had made him give up Trevor, but he knew that telling Neville that would only make him sadder. "Maybe. Maybe once you get to know your owl you'll forget all about Trevor."

Neville smiled a forced smile. "Yeah. I never really tried to get to know her."

"You could start by giving her a name."

Neville adopted a thoughtful expression and for the first time since Harry had found him he didn't look like he was about to burst into tears. "I did have a name in mind," he said, "I saw it our history textbook, but I wasn't really sure if it was good."

"What was it?"

"Odette."

"Odette the Owl," Harry said, "Sounds good to me."

"Odette," Neville said again, speaking slowly as if trying to see how the words fit in his mouth.

Now that Neville was no longer on the verge of tears, Harry remembered why he had come down to the common room in the first place.

"Say, why don't we go down to the kitchens together," he said.

Neville thought for a moment then nodded. "Would you mind if we stopped at the Owlery on the way? I'd like to see Odette. You know, let her know she has a name."

Harry nodded and the two of them got under the Invisibility Cloak and left the common room. The Owlery was at the top of a tower on the the other side of Hogwarts and Harry really didn't want to make the trek all the way over there, but he knew it meant a lot to Neville and didn't want his friend to start crying again. Once there, Neville managed to find his owl and roused her from her sleep. She seemed quite indignant at having her slumber interrupted, but she climbed onto Neville's outstretched arm all the same. Neville affectionately stroked her feathers and repeated her name over and over again. After a few minutes, he let her fly back to her perch, promising to bring her a snack the next time he visited.

After that, they made their way down to the kitchens. The elves were in the middle of preparing breakfast but they still found time to serve Harry and Neville a platter full of donuts with some warm milk to wash them down. After indulging in their midnight snack, Harry and Neville made their way back to Gryffindor Tower. Harry knew that classes would be starting in just a few hours and he wished he'd just tried to go back to sleep instead of getting out of bed.

"Harry," Neville whispered, his breath against the nape of Harry's neck in the confined space of the Invisibility Cloak.

"Yeah?"

"Could you not tell the others about tonight? You know, about me crying."

Harry remembered the time he'd nearly broken down in the common room when he'd been homesick and how Neville had talked to him and hadn't told anyone about it. "Of course," he said.

They walked the rest of the way in silence. The Fat Lady was too busy snoozing in her portrait to even notice that the password came from empty air. They did their best not to wake their dorm mates as they returned to their room and silently bid each other good night before climbing into their respective beds. This time when Harry closed his eyes he didn't see the eyes of the Emperor, and for that he was grateful. He was fast asleep before long, this time without any nightmares.

**

* * *

**

Harry wasn't having a good day which was no surprise to him because he hadn't been having a good week. Late night excursions in the castle with his friends had him up to late hours and the occasional nightmare certainly hadn't helped things. Because of this he found himself tired and moody, and it had only gotten worse as the week had gone on. Now, he was walking down to the dungeons for his first Potions class of the spring term and he wasn't looking forward to it. The class started off well enough. Snape ordered them to work in pairs on a Forgetfulness Potion. Harry immediately turned to Ron and they prepared to work together. Snape had other ideas, unfortunately.

"Potter, work with Granger," he said.

Harry looked up from his text book with wide eyes. "But, Professor-"

"Do not question me, Potter," Snape said. "Work with Granger, unless you'd like to find yourself in my office later this evening."

Harry turned around to where Hermione Granger sat behind him. She had been preparing to work with Sally-Ann Perks. She at least wasn't glaring at him.

"Perks, you'll work with Weasley," Snape said.

Harry begrudgingly got up and switched seats with Sally-Ann. Granger ignored him as he sat down, choosing instead to focus on her textbook where the instructions for the Forgetfulness Potion were listed.

"Look," Harry said, "I know you don't like me, but if Snape is forcing us to work together you can at least be civil."

Granger shot Harry a glare out of the corner of her eye, but spared him no words as she went about organizing the ingredients for their potion.

"I hope you are talking about your potion, Potter," Snape said from the other side of the room where he was observing another student's cauldron.

"We are, sir," Harry said, wondering how the Potions Master had heard him.

"That will be one point from Gryffindor for lying, Potter."

Harry glared daggers at the back of the Snape's head as he walked about the classroom overseeing the potion making process. His glaring was interrupted as Granger elbowed him out of the way so she could pour some ingredients into their cauldron.

"I suppose you don't want any of my help?" Harry said, trying to keep the anger out of his voice.

Without looking away from the cauldron, Hermione said, "Why would I? You're rubbish at potions."

"I am not!"

Ron turned to face them. "What did she just say?" he asked, glaring at Hermione.

"Potter, Weasley!" Snape said as he swept towards them, "Perhaps you are confused. I separated the two of you to prevent you from talking."

"Hermione won't let me help with the potion, sir!" Harry said.

"He never offered his help, Professor," Hermione said calmly, still focusing on her cauldron.

"She said I was rubbish!"

"You are rubbish, Potter," Snape said, eliciting chuckles from some of the Slytherins in the room. "Though it's hardly a surprise, your father being who he is."

Harry ground his teeth. He usually did his best to not let Snape get to him. At least, he usually tried to stay calm so Snape wouldn't know he was getting to him. But today he was tired and agitated already and Snape was just making things worse. He felt like yelling at Snape, letting him know how much he hated him, but he knew it wouldn't accomplish anything, so he tried to stay calm.

"My father-"

"Is a toerag?" Snape interjected, sneering, "A brain-dead moron? An arrogant troll? An attention-seeking git? I can go on if you'd wish."

The Slytherins were laughing again, louder this time. Harry came to a decision and he came to it quick; he couldn't stay there. He just couldn't deal with Snape and he knew his best option was to leave. So, he gathered his things up as quickly as he could and made for the door.

"Where do you think you're going, Potter?" Snape asked.

Harry didn't say anything.

"If you walk out that door, I'll have you scrubbing toilets for a week."

Harry paused at the door. As angry as he was, he certainly didn't want to spend a week scrubbing toilets. In his rush to get out of the room he hadn't considered the punishments Snape would level at him. He had just expected him to take off some house points.

"There's a good boy, Potter," Snape said mockingly, "Your father was usually too stupid to listen."

Harry couldn't help it. It was all just too much. The lack of sleep, the nightmares, and now Snape. Individually, he could handle those problems, but all of them combined had worn him to the breaking point. He whipped around and without thinking about it his wand was in his hand and an incantation was leaving his lips.

"_Ater Aduro_!"

A spark of black magic jumped from his wand and hit Snape square in the chest. The Potions Master stumbled back, his eyes wide with disbelief. The spell scorched a hole through his robes, but otherwise left him unharmed. His face shifted through many emotions as he tried to process what had just happened to him; the most prominent emotions being shock, anger and hate.

Harry's eyes widened as he realized what he'd just done. He turned around quickly and tried to bolt for the door. He wasn't sure where he'd go, all he knew was that he had to get away from the Potions Master. He didn't make it more than two steps before his body froze. His arms snapped down to his sides and his knees banged together as his legs locked into place. Stiff as a board, he fell face first into stone floor of the dungeon. Though he'd never been under the spell before, he recognized it as the Full Body-Bind Curse. In the silence that had permeated the classroom since he'd uttered the curse, he heard footsteps and was then levitated off the ground. He couldn't see, but he knew it had to be Snape who levitated him. His body rolled in the air until he was staring at the ceiling and then he was marched out of the classroom.

"You'll be expelled for this," Snape hissed, "I'll make sure of it."

**

* * *

**

It was an odd thing to be levitated through the halls of Hogwarts. Harry felt like he was being paraded around for all the other students to see. He was stuck in a way that he could only look at the ceiling and didn't see all the people Snape levitated him past, but he could still hear them. They whispered and muttered and Harry would have felt self-conscious if he wasn't so scared. He'd be expelled for this for sure, and he didn't even want to think about what his mother would do to him.

Snape's parade came to a stop, though Harry couldn't tell where they were. Snape said something, quick and quiet, that Harry couldn't hear and then they were moving again. They came to another brief stop then they began moving up and Harry realized they were going up stairs. The upward motion stopped and then there was the sound of a heavy set of doors being thrown open. They moved forward again and then stopped for what would be the final time.

"Severus." It was the voice of Headmaster Riddle. "What is the meaning of this?"

Riddle didn't sound particularly alarmed or concerned for Harry's well-being; simply curious.

"This..._hooligan_," Snape practically spat out the word and Harry imagined there were a million other words he wanted to use, "Attempted to curse me in class."

"Is this true, Mr. Potter?" Riddle asked.

Harry tried to defend himself, but he was still paralyzed. Not that it mattered since he didn't know what he'd say to defend himself.

"Perhaps it would be prudent to release Mr. Potter so that he may defend himself," Riddle said, and Harry was almost sure he could detect a hint of mirth to the Headmaster's raspy voice.

"Defend himself?" Snape seethed, "Is my word not enough? Is the hole in my robes not enough?"

Riddle didn't respond and for a moment Harry feared he'd be expelled without a chance to defend himself. He figured he'd be expelled either way, but he knew he'd feel better if he could at least argue his case. He heard a disgusted sigh from Snape and then he found himself falling to the ground. Finally able to move, he scrambled to his feet and faced the Headmaster.

"Headmaster Riddle, sir," he said quickly, "I...I..."

His mind was blank. What could he say? He couldn't deny trying to curse Snape.

"I'm waiting, Mr. Potter," Riddle said with an edge to his voice that said he wouldn't wait long.

"He insulted my father!" Harry blurted.

Riddle stared at Harry, or at least it looked like he did. It was impossible to tell where he was looking while he was wearing his mask. Harry fidgeted under what he assumed to be the Headmaster's scrutinizing gaze, but he never once looked away. He kept his eyes locked on to Riddle's mask in hopes that the Headmaster would see the truth in his eyes.

"Is this true, Severus?" Riddle asked, not bothering to turn to Snape.

"It's hardly important," Snape said. "What matters is that he cursed me, which he has yet to deny. He should be expelled immediately."

"It is of the utmost importance, Severus," Riddle said, and this time he did turn towards Snape. "To curse a teacher is a grievous offense, yes, but if there is a legitimate reason for the curse then..."

Harry didn't risk looking over his shoulder to see Snape's expression, but just the thought of it had him fighting off a smile. Was the Headmaster actually going to let him off the hook?

"Surely you're not suggesting..." Snape said.

"That Mr. Potter go unpunished?" Riddle said. "Of course not."

Harry deflated. For a moment he'd actually believed he'd get away.

"But I can not expel him from Hogwarts," Riddle continued, "You provoked him and he responded the way most adult wizards would, though he obviously still has a lot to learn."

"But he must be punished," Snape said.

"And he will be," Riddle said, turning back to Harry, "You're quite the Quidditch player, Mr. Potter. You feel very passionate about the game, don't you?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said, dreading what was about to come next.

"Well, the teams on your schedule can rest easy, as you are hereby banned from participating in Quidditch activities for the rest of the year." There was clearly mirth evident in the Headmaster's voice, and Harry openly balked at the fact that the Headmaster was taking pleasure in punishing him.

"But, sir-!" he said.

"Mr. Potter," Riddle said, the edge in his voice killing any idea Harry had about protesting, "Perhaps you would like for me to rethink my ideas on your expulsion?"

Harry hung his head. "No, sir."

"Severus, I trust you are happy with this arrangement?"

Harry turned back to face Snape who stared down his nose at him. There was a triumphant look in his beady black eyes.

"It will do, Headmaster."

**

* * *

**

By the next day everyone had heard of Harry's expulsion from the Quidditch team, including his parents. He was lucky enough to not receive a howler from his mother, but the strongly worded letter she did send him let him know in no uncertain terms that he wouldn't enjoy his next trip home. Worst than that were his housemate's reactions. In their eyes he was their only hope to win the Qudditch Cup and now he had gone and done something stupid and ruined their chances. Most of them refused to talk to him at all and often made disparaging remarks when he passed them in the halls. His teammates had varying reactions. Wood refused to speak to him at all, Fred and George congratulated him on standing up to Snape, and Alicia, Katie and Angelina let him know that they were disappointed in him but they weren't angry. Harry's dorm mates were some of the few Gryffindor's who hadn't turned on him.

The other houses, on the other hand, were delighted to hear that Harry had been banned from Quidditch. Ravenclaw students were stopping him the halls to thank him. Now that he wasn't going to be playing they were sure they'd have no problem beating Gryffindor in their upcoming match. The Slytherin's were nastier in their actions, openly heckling Harry everywhere he went for attempting to curse their Head of House. They also seemed quite confident that they'd repeat as Quidditch champions without the Gryffindor's to stand in their way. The Hufflepuffs were a bit nicer, but even they made remarks about Harry behind his back.

By the time Monday rolled around Harry was feeling so miserable that he didn't want to get out of bed to go to class. It was his friend's assurance that going to classes would help take his mind off things that convinced him to get out of bed. Unfortunately, it proved hard to take his mind off things when everyone he passed in the halls whispered about him behind his back. Things only got worse at breakfast when someone from Slytherin table hit him in the head with a piece of toast. Harry spent the rest of the day with his head hung and only spoke when spoken to. He hoped that if he made himself as invisible as possible that people would forget about him. They didn't.

Finally, it came to be that Harry's day was over as Defense class came to an end. He planned to get right up to Gyrffindor Tower and hide in a corner where no one would bother him. Professor Lupin wasn't letting him go so easily.

"Mr. Potter, I'd like to speak with your for a moment," he said as Harry shuffled out of class with his friends.

Harry nodded for his friends to go on without him and met Lupin at his desk. He had been expecting something like this, but had been hoping to avoid it. He waited until the class emptied before speaking.

"I'm sorry."

Lupin raised an eyebrow. "What are you sorry for?"

"For cursing Snape?" Harry said, not sure if that was the answer Lupin wanted.

"Then it's not me you should be apologizing too," Lupin said. The calmness in his voice was eerie. Harry would have preferred it if he were yelling.

"I know you're mad-"

"I'm not mad," Lupin calmly interjected, "Just disappointed."

"Then I'm sorry about that," Harry said, "It's just … you weren't there. You didn't hear what he said."

"It doesn't matter what he said. You cursed a teacher. That is simply unacceptable."

"He insulted my dad!"

"It doesn't matter!" Lupin said, his voice rising in volume to quell any thoughts Harry had of arguing. "You can't just curse everyone who rubs you the wrong way!"

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but his words got caught in his throat as images of Emperor Grindelwald torturing an innocent muggle servant flashed through his mind. Grindewald had cursed someone who hadn't deserved it because he'd been angry. Now, Harry couldn't help but wonder if that was what he'd done. Had Snape deserved to be cursed, or had he just done it because he was angry? Suddenly, Harry didn't feel like defending himself anymore.

"Do you understand?" Lupin asked.

Harry nodded.

"Good," Lupin said, his voice becoming calm again, "Your mother has asked me to keep a closer eye on you. I also think it's important for you to know that she will pull you out of Hogwarts herself if you have another incident like this."

"Can she do that?"

"She's your mother, she can do whatever she wants."

Harry sighed. He knew there was no arguing with that.

"That's all for now," Lupin said, "Try to enjoy the rest of your day."

Harry couldn't imagine the day getting any better, but he nodded and smiled as he exited Lupin's classroom. Outside the classroom, he found Hermione Granger leaning against the wall closest to the classroom's open door. Judging by the smug look on her face, not only had she heard Lupin chastising him, she had enjoyed it. Harry glared at her, his fist clenching at his side in anger. She glared back with a taunting look in her eyes.

Harry sighed in disgust and marched away. He walked to Gryffindor Tower with his head hung and his hands clinched at his side. He was barely paying attention to where he was going, his feet walked the path to Gryffindor Tower of their own accord. So wrapped up was he in his anger that he didn't notice someone standing in front of him and plowed right into them. The collision sent him falling backwards. When he looked up he saw Professor Rätsel standing before him.

"Potter," Rätsel said, dusting off his robes.

Harry scrambled to his feet. "Sorry, Professor," he said quickly, "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."

"Obviously," Rätsel droned, "But think nothing of it. I've been wanting to talk to you."

Harry suppressed a sigh. He didn't feel like being lectured by another professor. "About what, sir?"

"Your altercation with Professor Snape, of course," Rätsel said. "I'd recommend going for softer tissue next time."

Harry hadn't been expecting that. "Er-What was that, sir?"

"Your curse was obviously too weak to have the desired effect," Rätsel said. "Next time go for softer tissue to maximize your damage. The eyes make for a good target."

Harry's jaw dropped, he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Don't give me that look, boy. If you chose to curse Snape, I'm sure he deserved."

Harry shook his head quickly, still stunned. "It was wrong of me. You can't just go around cursing people you don't like."

Rätsel scoffed. "Tell me, Potter, what is the number one tenet of the Empire. I know you know it."

Of course Harry knew it. Everyone did. "Magic is Might," he said.

"Exactly," Rätsel said, smirking, "Magic is might, but what use is that might if you can't use it against your enemies? I wouldn't teach the curse if I didn't want you to use it."

"But-but Professor Snape isn't my enemy?"

There was a strange twinkle in Rätsel's gray eyes. "Isn't he?"

Harry didn't know what to say. Rätsel shook his head at Harry's dumbfounded expression and limped past him. Harry turned and watched him limp down the hall.

"Just remember, Potter," Rätsel said without turning around. "Next time you curse someone, make sure you mean it."


	9. Chapter 9

Book I

Chapter 9

The Cursed Room

Harry stared out the window of Professor Lupin's office. It was an unseasonably warm February day with little wind; perfect Quidditch weather. Even from Professor Lupin's office Harry swore he could hear stomping and chanting as the Gryffindor/Ravenclaw game got underway. He knew it had to be his imagination though, because the pitch was too far away.

"Harry? Are you all right?"

He snapped out of his revere and turned to Professor Lupin, who sat across him at his desk. "I'm fine," he said automatically.

Lupin offered him a small smile. "You're sure you wouldn't rather be at the game?"

Harry sighed and shook his head. "Watching them play … it just reminds me that I could be up there flying with them if I hadn't been so stupid."

"You made a mistake, Harry. Stop beating yourself up over it."

Harry frowned. Just a few weeks ago Lupin had been telling him that he'd had no reason whatsoever to curse Snape, now he was willing to write it off as a mistake? Lupin must have sensed his confusion, as he went on to say:

"Don't get me wrong, it was a _stupid_ mistake. One I don't imagine you'll be making again."

Harry snickered. "I don't plan on it."

"You know, after your mother calmed down, she had an interesting theory on why you cursed Snape."

"Did her theory involve Snape being an annoying git?"

Lupin didn't laugh. "She thinks it has to do with what you saw at Dumbledore's Christmas party."

"Oh," Harry said. He averted his eyes away from Lupin and looked instead at his feet. "She told you about that?"

"She also told me that you wouldn't talk to her or your father about it."

Harry shrugged. "What's there to talk about?"

"You saw an innocent girl tortured, Harry, don't tell me that didn't affect you."

Harry didn't say anything. The truth was that he was still having nightmares and his friends had started to notice. He had managed to convince them that problems with his mattress were the cause of his nighttime unrest, but he didn't know how long they'd buy that.

"I've noticed the dark circles under your eyes," Lupin continued, "Have you been having trouble sleeping?"

It took every ounce of self control Harry had to not visibly react to Lupin's question. If he didn't know any better he would have thought that his uncle had just read his mind. "I haven't been getting enough sleep, but it's not because I'm having nightmares." It wasn't a lie but it wasn't the truth either. Apparently it was good enough for Lupin because he didn't press the issue further. "Look, can we just talk about something else?"

After a moment Lupin nodded. "Okay, let's talk about what you're doing that's keeping you up late at night."

Harry had expected a question like that, so he was able to answer smoothly. "Just a little fun with the guys," he said. "You were the one who told me to have fun with my friends."

"I suppose I did, but I didn't say anything about sleep deprivation."

"It's not that bad," Harry said, though he knew it was. Even McGonagall had noticed the dark circles under his eyes and had asked about it.

"If you say so," Lupin said, making it obvious that he didn't believe it was as simple as Harry made it sound. "Just remember I'm always here to talk – about anything – if you need me."

"I know." Desperate for a change of subject, Harry noticed a pile of letters sitting on Lupin's desk and called attention to them. "Who are all these letters from?"

"Mostly disgruntled parents," Lupin said, eying the letters wearily. "Some people still don't like having a werewolf teaching their students."

Harry frowned. "What does you being a werewolf have to do with anything? You're safe with your potion, right?"

"Old prejudices die hard. It's not that bad though, you should have seen the letters I was getting when I first started working here a year ago. The Minster herself tried to pass legislation to prevent werewolves from holding teaching positions."

"Just because you started working here?"

Lupin nodded. "The Minister has never been a big fan of werewolves. Or Centaurs. Or anything that's not a witch or wizard. I learned that the hard way when I worked at the Ministry."

Harry thought back to his meeting with the unpleasant toad woman at Dumbledore's Christmas party. "But all wizards are equal! That's one of the tenets of the Empire."

Lupin smiled, but it seemed a bit sad. "You'll find that not everyone is such a strict adherer to the Empire's tenets. Of course, no one has it worse than muggle werewolves."

"Muggles can be werewolves?"

"Of course they can. Unfortunately, they aren't allowed Wolfsbane Potion and since they don't have a place where they can safely transform they're taken from their homes and put in camps."

"During the full moon?" Harry asked.

Lupin shook his head. "Many of them never see their families again."

Harry frowned. "Oh." It sounded bad, but he just had to remind himself that muggles _had _to live below wizards. It was the only way things could work.

"Sorry," Lupin said. "Let's talk about something less depressing."

They changed the subject to something more lighthearted and chitchatted for another half-hour or so. Harry excused himself from Lupin's office by telling his uncle that he wanted to get some studying done while the castle was mostly empty. In reality, he had promised his friends that he'd search the seventh floor during the Quidditch game. He went straight from Lupin's office to the portion of the seventh floor he and his friends had last searched. He didn't bother grab the Marauder's Map or his Invisibility Cloak from Gryffindor Tower because he figured he wouldn't need them during the middle of the day.

After an hour of fruitless searching, Harry managed to find the biggest clue yet in the search for Dumbledore's Weapon. It was a tapestry that depicted a wizard trying to teach trolls ballet. He instantly found the tapestry interesting, not just because of it's subject matter but also because it seemed familiar to him. He grabbed the edge of the tapestry and pulled it away from the wall, but there was nothing behind it. That was when he realized why the tapestry seemed so familiar to him; he had seen it the night of the Welcoming Feast. This was where he had been when he had chased after Dumbledore and then had been chased by Filch.

He stepped back from the tapestry and looked down the corridor. His breathing began to quicken as he realized that there was a good chance that Dumbledore had hidden his weapon in this very corridor. He redoubled his search efforts; searching every unused classroom, examining every brick that looked strange, and pulling back every tapestry.

It must have been Harry's lucky day, because during his fervent searching he noticed something else. Further down the hall from the tapestry was a row of unused classrooms. The were five doors, but in between the third and the fourth door there was an large gap where it looked like another door would go. Normally, Harry wouldn't have noticed anything like this, but desperate as he was for a clue he found it suspicious. He ran his hand over the portion of a wall where it looked like another classroom door would go but was disappointed when he found only solid stone.

He examined the blank portion of the wall with his arms crossed. He knew that he was probably just grasping at straws, but he felt as if there should be something covering that wall. If not a classroom door then a tapestry or a painting. It was hard to find a portion of wall in Hogwarts that wasn't covered with something. Somehow, he knew he was close to finding Dumbledore's weapon.

Then the wall flickered and suddenly there was a door there, right where Harry knew it was supposed to be. His breath caught in his throat and he took a step back, barely believing that he had actually been right. The door flickered and disappeared, leaving him even more confused and shocked. It had happened so fast that it could have just been his tired eyes playing tricks on him. Still, he knew that it really had happened. There was a hidden door on the wall before him, now he just had to figure out how to make it appear. He hadn't done anything to make it appear the first time; he'd merely been standing there thinking. Did the door respond to his thoughts somehow?

He tried to retrace his thoughts and get back to what he was thinking about when the door had first appeared. He had been thinking about Dumbledore's Weapon and how close he was to finding it. As he focused on these thoughts again the door appeared. He tried to keep his focus on Dumbledore and the search for his weapon and this time the door didn't disappear.

Harry smiled. The biggest, widest smile he'd ever smiled. After months of searching he had finally found it. He took a deep breath and strode towards the door. Without a moments hesitation he reached out and gripped the door handle. A twist of the handle sent him flying backwards. He felt like he'd been kicked in the chest. His flight came to an end when his back met the bare stone of the wall opposite the door. He fell to the ground, just barely able to stop his head from bouncing off the floor. He let out a long hiss, afraid that shouting out would draw unwanted attention, and rubbed at his back. He glared up at the door, but his eyes widened in shock when he saw angry red runes burning on it's surface.

An quick examination of his body told him that he was unharmed except for a sore back. He scrambled to his feet, cursing himself for being so careless. Of course Dumbledore would place protection on the door if he'd hid his weapon behind it. Harry had been too excited to even consider the fact. He had just gotten lucky that all the door had done was repel him.

As he stood and contemplated the door, the red runes on its surface faded away and he found himself looking at what seemed to be an ordinary door. He grimaced. He knew nothing about runes and, as far as he knew, neither did any of his friends. He assumed that the runes were apart of the curse that had repelled him, but he had no way of knowing for sure. One thing he did know for sure was that he and his friends would have their work cut out from them solving this new puzzle. Of course, he could just try to burn the door down. Professor Ratsel had said that _Ater Aduro_ could burn through anything if the caster had the will to, after all. Then again, the door had sent him flying across the corridor when he'd try to open it, he didn't want to see what would happen if he tried to curse it.

It was as Harry was pacing back and forth before the door, debating whether or not he should try to burn the door down, that the chanting started. It only took him a second to realize that the chanting wasn't coming from the cursed door. It was too faint and seemed to be echoing from another part of the castle. He strained his ears but he still couldn't hear what it was. He took one last look at the cursed door before deciding that he could come back and examine it later with his friends. He took off down the corridor and sought after the source of the chanting. The closer he got, the more clear the chant became and when he finally understood it he couldn't help but smile.

"GRYFFINDOR! GRYFFINDOR! GRYFFINDOR! GRYFFINDOR!"

He began running through the halls until he found them; a contingent of excited Gryffindors stampeding through the halls with the Quidditch team held on their shoulders. He smiled wide as he watched his housemates parade to Gryffindor Tower. He couldn't believe it. Everyone had made such a big deal out of him being banned from the team that he hadn't even considered the possibility that the team would win without him. Now getting banned from the team didn't seem so bad. Sure, he'd have loved to play in the game, but as long as the team had won and his housemates were happy he didn't care. Or, at least that's what he tried to tell himself. There was a part of him that badly wished to be the one being paraded through the halls.

He followed the Gryffindor parade at a distance, choosing not to take part in the boisterous activities. When they reached Gryffindor Tower, he was the last to climb through the portrait hole. What he saw inside the common room surprised him. Fred and George had once again taken the liberty of preparing a victory party before the game had even been played. Harry found his friends in the middle of the party.

"Harry!" Ron shouted over the noise of all of Gryffindor house laughing and talking at once. "It was a brilliant game! You should've been there!"

As Harry grabbed a bottle of pumpkin juice, Ron dramatically told him about the game. Apparently, it had been a low-scoring game with the Beaters for both teams causing a lot of havoc and both Keepers playing lights-out. After nearly two hours of play, Harry's replacement – a third year he'd never heard of – had managed to catch the Snitch before Ravenclaw's Seeker.

Harry partied along with the rest of his house, deciding the keep the information he had about Dumbledore's Weapon to himself for the time being. It wasn't until an hour later that the party died down and Harry gathered his friends to tell them the news.

"A cursed door?" Ron asked, rubbing his chin. "Are you sure Dumbledore's the one who cursed it?"

"Who else would?" Harry questioned.

"Fred and George, for one," Ron said. "And I wouldn't put it past some of the nastier Slytherins."

"He said the door appeared to him when he thought of Dumbledore," Dean said, "Why would someone include that in a prank?"

"Maybe he just thought it appeared when he thought of Dumbledore," Ron said. "It could have appeared just because he was standing in a certain place, or something."

"I think I would've noticed something like that," Harry said.

Ron shrugged. "I'm just saying. Plus, it just doesn't really seem like Dumbledore, you know? An unused classroom? Don't you think he'd put his Weapon somewhere more … secretive?"

"Harry would know better than any of us," Dean said, "Seeing as he's the only one who actually knows Dumbledore."

Harry frowned slightly. He hadn't considered that the door had been cursed by anyone but Dumbledore. "He was probably in a hurry, that's why it seems so simple. He didn't have the time to set up some big elaborate scheme."

"Well, the only way to find out for sure who cursed the door is to get through it," Seamus said.

"But how?" Neville said.

"I was thinking that one of us could copy down the runes on the door and then we could go to the library and see if we can find some books on how to decipher them," Harry said.

"The library?" Ron questioned dismissively, "I don't like going to the library to do homework. I definitely don't want to spend my free time there trying to decipher runes.

"Do you have a better idea?" Dean asked, frowning.

Ron was silent for a moment as he thought. Then his face lit up. "Bill!" he exclaimed.

"What?" Harry asked.

"My brother, Bill," Ron said, a self-assured smile on his face, "He was really into curse breaking and all that back when he was in school. He wanted to get a job at Gringotts, but he missed his job interview because he got drunk the night before."

"Do you really think he'd help us?" Harry asked..

Ron shrugged. "Probably. It's not like he's got anything better to do."

"Are you sure he even remembers anything about curse breaking?" Dean asked.

"No," Ron said, "But I'd rather ask him than waste time in the library."

"I guess it couldn't hurt to ask," Harry said.

With that agreed upon, they wasted time until night fell and the common room was empty. They decided to forgo using the Invisibility Cloak since they couldn't all fit underneath it, but Harry brought it along just in case. Harry lead the way though the castle and to the cursed door. He'd feared that maybe the wouldn't be able to find the door again, but that ended up not being a problem.

"This is it," Harry said, pointing out the door to his friends.

"I don't see anything," Ron said.

"You're not supposed to," Harry said. "Try thinking about Dumbledore."

Ron screwed his face up in thought and after a moment he smiled. "There it is!"

"I still don't see it," Dean said.

"Yeah, I'm thinking about Dumbledore but there's nothing there," Seamus said.

Harry turned to Neville, who was staring intently at the door. "Do you see anything, Neville?"

"I … I …" Neville's eyes widened. "Yeah, I can see it now!"

Harry turned back to Seamus and Dean, both of whom shook their heads.

"If Dean can't see the door, who's going to draw the runes?" Neville asked.

Dean was the best artist amongst them, so he had brought parchment and quills to sketch out the runes so they could send them to Bill Weasley.

Harry frowned. "I'm rubbish at drawing."

"Me too," Neville said.

"Guess it's up to me then," Ron said. He held out his hand and Dean gave him the parchment and quills.

"Are you any good?" Harry asked.

"Probably better than you two," Ron said.

Harry didn't like the sound of that, but there wasn't much he could do about it.

"So, who's going to trigger the door?" Dean asked.

Harry turned to Neville. With Ron doing the drawing it was between the two of them.

"I'll do it," Neville said, sounding completely unenthusiastic about it.

"No, I'll do it," Harry said. He'd already done it once. Once more wasn't going to kill him, especially now that he was prepared. He turned around and cast a cushioning charm on the wall opposite the door. With that done, he strode toward the door and gripped the handle. The smallest twist of the handle sent him flying across the corridor into the cushioned wall. The only problem was that he'd forgotten to cushion the floor as well. Neville appeared at his side and helped him off the ground.

Harry watched as the red runes appeared on the door and Ron began to furiously scribble on his piece of parchment. Everyone remained quiet so as not to distract Ron and after a minute the runes faded away and Ron set his quill down.

"Did you get them all?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, they should be accurate," Ron said, holding up the parchment to Harry.

Harry looked over the runes and decided that they looked accurate enough to him. Ron had at least done a better job than he would have done. He showed the parchment to Neville, who merely shrugged.

"Is that it?" Dean asked.

"I guess so," Harry said. "Now we just have to hope Bill will be able to make sense of them."

He handed the parchment back to Ron and they left the cursed door alone and headed for Gryffindor Tower.

"I wish I could've seen the door," Seamus said, "Because the way you went flying looked _fun_."

Laughs were had, but Harry couldn't help but wonder why Dean and Seamus couldn't see door. "It was weird that you guys couldn't see the door."

Dean nodded. "Maybe it only works if you actually know Dumbledore or have met him?"

"I _have_ met him a few times," Neville said.

"Well, I haven't," Ron said. "The Welcoming Feast is the closest I've ever been to him."

Harry frowned. It didn't make sense. Why did the door appear to Neville, Ron and him but not Seamus and Dean? He contemplated this on the rest of the walk to Gryffindor Tower and by the time he arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady he still had no idea. The Fat Lady let them into the common room without much fuss and Ron immediately sat down to write a letter to Bill so they could send it off first thing in the morning.

"What did you say?" Harry asked, peering over Ron's shoulder.

Ron sat back from the letter and used his quill to scratch his chin. "I just told him that we need help translating the runes for a class."

"You think he'll buy that?" Harry asked. "I mean, first years don't take Ancient Runes."

Ron shrugged. "It's been so long since he's been a first year, he probably doesn't remember anything about it. Plus, it's not like he has any reason to be suspicious."

Harry sighed. "I still think it would be easier if we just went to the library."

"We wouldn't even know where to begin," Ron said, adding the finishing touches to the letter and folding it up.

"Right," Harry said. It was true, they didn't know anything about runes. Bill could at least get them on the right track.

With the matter settled, the five Gryffindor boys went up to their dormitories to get some sleep. Harry's usual nightmare didn't bother him that night, so when he woke up early the next morning he was feeling more refreshed than usual. He roused his dorm mates from their beds with varying degrees of difficulty. They were just going to go to the Owlery and use Neville's owl to send the letter to Bill which normally wouldn't require all of them to get up, but Ron, Seamus and Dean had yet to meet Neville's owl and though Neville wouldn't admit it Harry knew that he wanted all of his friends to meet her.

When Ron finally got out of bed, grumbling and moaning the whole time, they began their tired trek to the Owlery. When they arrived at the Owlery, they found it looking just as it always did. The high walls lined with owl perches, the straw covered floor covered in owl droppings. Many of the perches were empty, which Harry assumed meant the owls were out hunting.

"Odette!" Neville called, carefully stepping across the floor, "Odette we've got a letter for you!"

There was a loud hoot and a ruffle of wings as Odette swooped down and landed on Neville's shoulder, latching on with her sharp talons.

Neville grimaced. "We've – uh – we've got a letter for you, girl."

Odette hooted again, and if Harry didn't know better he would have thought it sounded indignant. He pulled the letter out of his robe pocket and handed it to Neville. Neville offered the letter to Odette, but she merely regarded it with a curious tilt of her head.

"It's her first delivery," Neville said, with a nervous chuckle, "I guess she doesn't really know what to do."

Then Odette let out a loud hoot and snatched the letter from Neville with her beak. Without waiting for further instructions, she launched herself from Neville's shoulder and flew out one of the Owlery's large windows. Neville rubbed his shoulder as he watched her go.

"She doesn't seem to like you very much," Ron said. Harry had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes at his friend's lack of tact.

"I think she just needs to get used to having me as her master," Neville said, though in typical fashion he sounded like he didn't believe what he was saying.

Feeling that Neville's relationship with his owl was something best saved for later, Harry put it out of his mind as he walked to the Great Hall with his friends. He thought instead about the letter they had just sent off to Ron's oldest brother. He could only hope that Bill remembered enough from his curse breaking days to help them out.

**

* * *

**

When Bill didn't respond after a day, Harry didn't think much of it. From what Ron told him, Bill was a busy man with his own life and he couldn't be expected to drop everything in order to help them out with their little problem. After a couple of days, Harry started to get impatient but he gave Bill the benefit of the doubt. After a week, a week that could have been spent in the library deciphering the runes himself, Harry was starting to get worried.

"Don't worry about it," Ron tried to placate him, "Bill can be kind of lazy sometimes. I'm sure he'll get around to it eventually."

'Eventually' ended up being two days later. Bill's response came on a quiet evening while Harry and his friends were sitting in the common room studying. When Ron saw who the letter was from he eagerly opened the envelope and drew it out.

"What's it say?" Harry asked, unable to contain his excitement.

"'Hey, little brother'," Ron read, "'Don't know what you're up to with these runes. Last I checked, first years weren't allowed to take Ancient Runes. Though knowing you, whatever this is can't be too bad. It's been a while since I've cracked open the old curse breaking textbooks, but I can tell you right off the bat that these runes aren't part of any curse. I was able to translate them though. Roughly they spell out 'Greater Good'. Hope that helps. Your brother, Bill.'"

Ron set the letter down with a sigh.

"The Greater Good," Harry said slowly.

"Well, at least now we know for sure that Dumbledore's the one who cursed the door," Seamus said.

"But Ron's brother said the door isn't cursed," Neville said.

"He said the runes weren't part of the curse," Dean said. "The door is definitely cursed. Why else would it repel Harry like that?"

"What's the point of the runes if they aren't part of the curse?" Ron asked.

"Maybe Bill's wrong," Harry said. "He said himself that's it's been along time since he's studied curse breaking. Maybe he made a mistake?"

"What do we do now?" Ron asked.

Everyone looked to Harry. Harry knew what they had to do, but he knew none of them would like it. "We've got to check the library," he said, eliciting a groan from Ron. "It's the only way we can be sure if Bill is right."

"What about asking someone else?" Ron asked. "Like a seventh year student who has taken Ancient Runes?"

"We don't know any seventh year students," Harry said.

"Plus that would be really suspicious," Dean said. "If we just asked some random seventh year for help with Ancient Runes they'd probably think we're up to something."

"We _are_ up to something," Seamus said with a grin.

Ron sighed. "Fine. Library it is."

"It won't be too bad," Harry said. "We can sneak out under the Cloak and check out the restricted section."

That seemed to brighten Ron's mood, but only momentarily. "We can't do it tonight. I'm going to be up half the night working on this Transfiguration essay."

Harry frowned and looked down at the textbook he'd been reading. Now that the spring term was in full swing their professors had drastically increased the workload. "We can get started this weekend," he said, "When we're not as busy."

His friends agreed and they all went back to their various studies.

**

* * *

**

Harry had fully intended to wait until the weekend to try and crack the mystery of the cursed door, but after a night full of studying he had laid his head down on his bed and found himself being chased down that dark corridor again. When he woke from the nightmare he found sleep elusive and after an hour of fruitlessly lying in bed he decided that he needed to do something to take his mind off the bad dream. He didn't want to sneak in to the library by himself because after a night spent studying reading a book was the last thing he wanted to do. Instead he decided to go check on the cursed door. He didn't expect to find anything new there, but he hoped that the trip would be enough to distract him from his nightmare.

So, without waking his friends, he grabbed the Marauder's Map and his Invisibility Cloak and silently went down to the common room. He waited until he was on the other side of the portrait hole to put on his Cloak and then he made the trip through the mostly dark castle to the cursed door on the other side of the seventh floor. The door was there, just like he knew it would be, just like it always was. Still, he was always afraid that it'd disappear and he'd never be able to find it again.

Harry paced before the door. He'd only gotten out of bed and come down to the door to distract himself, but now that he was there he couldn't help be get wrapped up in the mystery. He thought about the words 'the greater good' which is what the runes on the door spelled out if Bill was to be believed. But what did that mean? The door only appeared when you thought of Dumbledore, at least that was the case for Harry, Ron and Neville. Maybe only someone who believed in the greater good could get through the door? But then that didn't make sense because Harry believed in the greater good. He had believed in the greater good as long as he could remember. As he was pacing back and considering this, another idea hit him. Dumbledore had obviously made the runes on the door say 'greater good' for a reason, maybe it wasn't part of a puzzle, but a hint instead?

He brought his pacing to a stop and faced the door. He took a deep breath and said, "The greater good."

To his complete surprise, the door clicked, the handle spun and the door opened by itself. So surprised was he that he stumbled backwards and fell on his bottom. Sitting on the floor, he could only gape at the open doorway before him as stale air blew out from the unused classroom beyond. He hadn't actually expected that to work. After a moment, he scrambled to his feet and pulled his wand out of his robe. A _Lumos_ later and he was shining the light from his wand into the classroom beyond the cursed door.

Beyond the door was an unused classroom, but it was far from ordinary. The floor, the ceiling, the desks, the walls, everything in the classroom was covered in unfamiliar black markings. The markings were dissimilar to the runes from the door in that markings seemed to be a part of a large pattern that covered the entire classroom. The markings seemed less like cryptic runes and more like a twisted work of art.

Then Harry caught sight of something that caused his breath to hitch in his throat. On the far side of the classroom was a marble pedestal and sitting on that pedestal was something round covered by a red sheet. From his point of view, he gauged that the covered object on the pedestal was about half the size of a quaffle. Somehow, he knew, even though he couldn't tell what the object was, that he had finally found Dumbledore's Weapon. Having completely forgotten the lesson he had learned a week ago, he took a step into the room without giving the black markings on the floor a second thought.

As soon as his foot came down on the black markings, his world was consumed by darkness. He lost all sense of balance, but he couldn't tell if he was falling to the ground or floating up to the ceiling. He tried to call out, he tried to flail his limbs, but he couldn't even be sure if he had a mouth to call out with anymore or limbs to flail. He couldn't feel anything, couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything. He panicked, his mind raced and with growing dread he began to think that he'd somehow died.

That was when he heard the voice. A loud, booming voice that asked him a question: "Do you understand?"

He couldn't answer the question when he had so many of his own. Understand what? Who are you? What's happening to me? Many more questions raged through his mind and the voice choose not to answer any of them.

Seconds or minutes passed, Harry couldn't be sure of which, before the voice spoke again. Still loud and booming, it said: "You obviously do not understand."

Then Harry felt the sensation of falling. How far or how fast he was falling he couldn't tell, but it didn't matter because before he hit the ground he lost consciousness.

**

* * *

**

Harry woke up when something collided with him. He blearily opened his eyes and examined his surroundings. He was laying on the cold stone floor across the corridor from the cursed door. Next to him, he saw Hermione Granger scrambling to her feet and gazing about in confusion. A glance down at himself confirmed that he was still wearing his Invisibility Cloak, meaning Granger must have tripped over him. Luckily for him, she seemed to be in too much of a rush to investigate what had tripped her; she was off and running again as soon as she was on her feet.

Once he saw Granger disappear around a corner, Harry sat up and pulled his Invisibility Cloak off. He examined his body, but aside from some stiffness in his back and neck from sleeping on the floor there didn't seem to be anything wrong with him. He pushed himself to his feet and glanced up and down the corridor. Judging by the meager amount of light pouring in from the windows at the far end of the corridor he surmised that it was still early in the morning. His dorm mates probably weren't out of bed yet.

He returned his gaze to the cursed door as he recalled what had happened to him the night before. The darkness, the feeling of weightlessness, being judged by a mysterious booming voice and then falling unconscious. It had all been so strange and if he hadn't known better he would have written it off as a dream. As curious as he was to find out what this new curse that Dumbledore had placed on the classroom was, he wasn't very eager to experience it again. After passing out on the cold stone floor he was craving his bed in Gryffindor Tower and he had to tell his friends what had happened to him.

On his walk to Gryffindor Tower he only encountered a few other students who'd seen fit to rise this early in the morning. They all gave him strange looks, and he figured he deserved them. He was still in his pajamas, which were ruffled and slightly dirty from a night of sleeping on the floor and his hair unrulier than it had ever been. Still, none of his classmates bothered to ask him what was going on and he made it back to his dorm room without incident.

When he stepped into his room he saw that most of his dorm mates were out of bed and getting dressed for the day. They were all surprised to see him walk into the room.

"Harry?" Neville said, "Where have you been?"

Harry pulled back the curtain of his four-poster and collapsed onto his bed. "It's a long story."

His friends gathered around his bed and he told him what had happened the night before. When he was done, they all regarded him with worried exressions.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Ron asked. "Maybe you should go to the Hospital Wing to make sure nothing's wrong."

Harry shook his head. "I'm fine. Just a little sore and tired. Think I'll skip out on classes today."

Dean regarded Harry curiously. "You said there was a voice in the room, right?"

Harry nodded.

"Did you recognize the voice?"

Harry thought for a moment, then it hit him. He had hadn't realized it before because he had been panicking but he had definitely recognized the loud, booming voice.

"It was Dumbledore."


	10. Chapter 10

Book I

Chapter 10

Wolfsbane

Harry found himself in a familiar place; exactly where he didn't want to be. He was lying in bed, he wasn't sure of the hour but he knew it was late. He'd had the nightmare, the same one he always had, and now sleep avoided him. As he stared up at the canopy of his four-poster bed, he wondered when the nightmares would stop. It had been almost two months since Dumbledore's Christmas party and yet the Emperor's golden eyes still haunted him in his dreams.

With a sigh, Harry directed his thoughts away from the Emperor and the nightmares he caused. He focused his thoughts elsewhere, hoping that distracting himself would be enough to lure him to sleep. He thought about the cursed room where Dumbledore's Weapon lie. He and his friends had spent all their free time the past week in the library trying to discover the secret to the protections Dumbledore had placed on the room. They'd had no luck. Harry could only take solace in the fact that Snape and Riddle didn't even seem to know the cursed room existed, as Snape had all but given up his search of the seventh floor as the late hours had begun to affect his teaching.

Harry groaned quietly as he realized sleep wouldn't be coming anytime soon, though he wasn't surprised. Every time he had a nightmare he found that the only sure way to get back to sleep was to actually get out of bed and do something else for a while to help clear his mind. Sometimes he just went down to the common room to sit or read, other times he went down to the kitchens and grabbed a snack. Tonight he felt like grabbing a snack, so he grabbed the Marauder's Map and his Invisibility Cloak and silently made his way down to the common room. A voice stopped him just before he was able to climb through the portrait hole.

"Where are you going?"

Harry stopped and cursed himself for not checking the Map before coming down. Making sure that the Map and his Cloak were securely stuffed in the pockets of his pajamas, he turned and faced Hermione Granger.

"Well?" she questioned. "Where are you going?"

"What business is it of yours?" Harry asked, sounding angrier than was probably necessary.

Hermione narrowed her eyes in a glare. "I think we've had this conversation before."

Harry nodded as he recalled the last time Hermione had tried to stop him and his friends from sneaking out at night. "Yeah, and I thought you were done bothering us after the last time."

"Why are you always sneaking out at night? What are you looking for?"

"It's none of your business."

"You're looking for the Chamber of Secrets, aren't you?"

Harry's eyes widened. "What?"

"It's true, isn't it?"

"I've never even _heard_ of the Chamber of Secrets."

Hermione crossed her arms across her chest and scrutinized him with her glare. "Fine," she said, "If you won't tell me then I'll just tell Professor Lupin what you've been up to."

"What – you can't!" Harry sputtered. "It's the middle of the night! Professor Lupin is _asleep_ right now!"

"Well, I guess I'll just have to wake him."

"I'm not even up to anything! What are you going to tell him, that I was down in the common room in the middle of the night? There's nothing wrong with that!"

Hermione smirked. "If you really believe that then you won't mind if I wake him up to tell him."

With that said she marched past Harry and towards the portrait hole. Harry reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her to a stop.

"You're being ridiculous!" he said.

Hermione jerked her arm out of his grip and continued her march to the portrait hole. "Don't touch me!" she said. "I know you won't care if I go to McGonagall or Snape or even Riddle, so if I have to wake Professor Lupin up in the middle of the night then so be it!"

Her declaration was punctuated by a sharp snap as she climbed through the portrait hole and slammed the portrait shut. A multitude of thoughts ran through Hary's head as he tried to think of the best way to deal with the situation. As much as he hated to admit it, Ron was better at dealing with Hermione than he was; at least he could get her to shut up. Realizing that he was wasting time, he followed after her.

"You're going to get in trouble," he called as he jogged to catch up with her.

"That's a risk I'll have to take."

Harry's fists clenched at his side. She was frustrating him so much that he felt like pulling his hair from his head. "What is your problem?" he hissed, careful not to raise his voice, "Why can't you just leave me and my friends alone? Why do you hate me so _effing_ much?"

Hermione whipped around suddenly, shocking Harry and causing him to take a few steps back. Her expression was livid; even in the sparse torchlight of the hallway he could tell that her face was flushed red. She jabbed a finger at him and looked as if she were about to explode. After a moment of silence she spun back around and continued walking.

"No, go on, tell me," Harry said as he resumed following her. "I'd love to know why you hate me. I'd love to know why you glare at me at every opportunity. Go on, spill it!"

Hermione rounded on him again. "Because you are the worst person I have ever met!" she shouted, making Harry wish he hadn't goaded her. "Your friend Ron spreads ridiculous stories about me! About how I'm some crazy mudblood hellbent on cursing the entire school or some such rot! Your friend Malfoy calls me a mudblood at every opportunity! But you're worse than both of them because you let it happen! You don't even care! Your mother is a muggleborn, she obviously cares! She was the nicest witch I've ever met! You...you should be better than this, but you're not!"

Harry was left dumbfounded in the wake of her rant. She locked eyes with him, giving him one of the most hate filled glares he'd ever seen. She spun around, took one step away from him, then spun back around and was in his face again.

"People like you are the reason muggles are oppressed in the first place! People who sat back and watched the muggles get oppressed and didn't say a word because it was for 'the greater good'! People like you make me _sick_!"

Then she spun around again and was marching down the hall. Harry could only stare after her, standing in the middle of the hall as the last words of her rant echoed off the walls. His shock quickly gave way to anger. She had no right to yell at him! He had never done anything to her! He couldn't control what his friends did! And Malfoy wasn't his friend in the first place! He strode after her and grabbed her by the arm, spinning her around to face him.

"Did – did you ever think that maybe people would treat you nicer if you weren't so mean to begin with?" he said, keeping his voice quiet but doing his best to insert an edge in his tone to let her know he didn't appreciate being yelled at. "You never talk to anyone. You glare at anyone who looks at you!"

"You've missed the point entirely," she spat, wrenching her arm free and jogging down a set of stairs that led to the Defense corridor.

They were getting closer to Professor Lupin's office and Harry wasn't sure how he was going to get Hermione to stop. Cursing her seemed like his best option, but he knew he couldn't do that. He didn't want Hermione to tattle on him to Lupin because if his mother found out he was still sneaking out at night she might make good on her threats and have him pulled from school. Cursing Hermione would be counterproductive in that it would all but guarantee that his mother would pull him from school. He was starting to hope that her outburst had attracted the attention of another professor so that they could be sent back to their dorms. As long as it wasn't Lupin.

Feeling desperate, Harry squashed down his anger (and his pride) and tried to bargain. "Look, I promise I'll talk to Ron and Draco about leaving you alone if you don't tell Lupin I've been sneaking out at night."

"You're pathetic."

Harry sighed. Lupin's office was just further down the hall and even from a distance he could see lights emanating from the it. He groaned.

"Why would he even be in his office this late at night?" he questioned under his breath.

Hermione had apparently heard him, as she informed him haughtily, "A professor's office also doubles as their living area. You'd know that if you'd ever bothered to read Hogwarts, A History."

Harry sneered at her because it was the only thing he could think to do. It was too late now to try to convince her to turn back; they'd arrived at Lupin's office. Harry stepped back and watched Hermione with his arms crossed.

"Go on," he said, sounding braver than he felt, "You've come this far. Let's see you do it."

Hermione returned his sneer with one of her own as she raised her hand and knocked on the door. Harry gulped and waited for the door to open. After a moment of waiting, Hermione knocked again.

"Professor Lupin," she called, "I've got something I need to tell you."

There was still no answer. Frowning, Hermione leaned forward and put her ear to the door. She quickly pulled back and faced Harry.

"There's something wrong," she said.

For the first time since they'd left the common room she wasn't glaring at him. Instead, there was clear worry evident in her eyes. Harry stepped forward and put his ear to the door; what he heard gave him a start. It sounded like a struggle; things were being tossed around and ripped apart.

"Moony!" Harry called, pounding on the door. "It's me, Harry! Are you okay in there?"

There was no answer, the sounds coming through the door continued. Hermione pushed Harry out of the way and tried the handle.

"It's locked," she said.

Harry pushed her out of the way and drew his wand. He quickly cast _Alohomora _and twisted the door handle. He pulled the door open and what he saw in Moony's office was enough of a shock to nearly take him off his feet. The office looked like it had been ransacked. Bookcases had been overturned and books lay strewn about the floor. Many of the books had had their pages ripped out and flung all over the room. The chairs Lupin had around his desk had been chewed on and had their stuffing ripped out. In the middle of all of this, perched on Lupin's desk, was a large, gray wolf.

Hermione squeezed into the doorway next to Harry. "Oh my," she said, her hand covering her mouth.

"It's – it's okay," Harry said uneasily, taking a step back from the door, "He's not going to hurt us. His potion should-"

Harry's words died in his throat as the werewolf lowered its haunches, tensing it's body up in preparation to pounce. It bared it's fangs and growled. Harry's heart rate quickened as the wolf sized up Hermione and him with it's yellow eyes. As fear gripped his insides, he could only think one thing: This shouldn't be happening.

The werewolf leapt into the air with a wicked snarl. Harry just barely managed to get the door closed in time; a loud thump sounded from the other side as werewolf met door. Harry drew his wand again and cast a quick locking charm on the door. He wasn't sure if werewolves were smart enough to use knobs, but he wasn't about to take the chance. The door thumped and rattled as the werewolf tried to get at them from the other side. Both Harry and Hermione took a few cautionary steps back.

"Look!" Hermione said, pointing to the door hinges which were loose and getting looser every time the werewolf thrashed against the door.

Harry's mouth fell open and he suddenly found it very hard to breathe. He couldn't believe this was happening; he just couldn't wrap his mound around it. So paralyzed in his fear and disbelief was he that he would have stood there and stared until the wolf had gotten through the door if Hermione hadn't tugged on his arm and pulled him down the corridor, back towards Gryffindor Tower.

"Come on!" she shouted. "We've got to get out of here!"

Harry didn't even take the time to think, he just belted down the corridor after Hermione, letting his legs work of their own accord. They hadn't even made if halfway down the corridor when a loud crash sounded behind them. Harry didn't want to look, but he knew he had to. A glance over his shoulder confirmed his fears: the door to Professor Lupin's office had been knocked clean off it's hinges and now lay in the floor. The werewolf stood atop it, staring after them with it's yellow eyes glowing in the torchlight. The beast hesitated only a second before launching down the corridor after them; its four legs carrying it faster than Harry or Hermione could ever hope to run.

With a startled yelp, Harry urged his legs to run faster as he and Hermione reached the set of of marble stairs at the end of the corridor. They scrambled up the steps and Harry didn't dare look to see how close the wolf was to catching them. At the top of the steps, Hermione stopped and as Harry turned to urge her on he saw her pull out her wand.

"_Aguamenti!_" she shouted, and a jet of water shot from her wand. She directed the water at the staircase.

Harry understood her meaning. The slick marble steps would serve as an obstacle to the werewolf, but the time she had taken to cast the charm had taken away time that they could have spent running. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her down the corridor. As they ran, Harry cast a look over his shoulder and what he saw made his heart stop. The werewolf had avoided Hermione's little obstacle by avoiding the stairs all together, choosing instead to run up the banister. Once the beast had reached the top of the banister it leapt through the air; it's teeth gleaming in the moonlight that filtered in through nearby windows.

Harry dragged Hermione to the ground as the werewolf soared over their heads. The beast's momentum carried it into a wall where it collided with a set of suits of armors. The suits of armor fell apart with a clatter and buried the wolf under heavy metal pieces. Harry scrambled to his feet and dragged Hermione up with him. He dragged her back, back the way they'd came. They slipped down the wet marble staircase and pounded their way through the Defense corridor as fast as their legs would carry them. They passed by Lupin's wrecked office and continued running to the end of the corridor. Just as they were about to round the corner at the end of the corridor, Harry turned back to see the wolf standing atop the staircase at the far end.

Once they'd escaped the Defense corridor, Hermione stopped and pulled Harry into an unused classroom. She quickly pulled the door shut and cast a locking charm on it. Harry stumbled to the nearest desk and bent over it; panting hard. Similarly, Hermione leaned against the locked door and slid to the ground with her chest heaving.

"This – shouldn't – be – happening," Harry managed to say between his pants.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but suddenly her eyes went wide and she scrambled away from the door.

"What?" Harry asked, but Hermione just held up a hand to silence him. She was staring intently at the bottom of the door.

Harry got down on his knees and tried to see what she saw. Then he heard it, the unmistakable sound of the werewolf's claws scrapping against the stone floor. The sound came to a stop right outside the door. Harry held his breath, for all the good it did. The wolf put it's nose at the bottom of the door, sniffing loudly. Then it began digging at the bottom of the door, the sound of it's claws scratching at the stone floor grated on Harry's frazzled nerves. The wolf stopped it's scratching and whined loudly, like one would expect from a friendly household pet begging for a treat. Harry listened intently as the sound of the wolf's claws against the floor faded away and then he let out the breath he'd been holding.

Hermione inched forward and placed her ear to the door. "I think he's gone."

Harry stood up and wiped his pajama pants free of dust. "We have to get out of here," he said, his voice wavering. "We have to find someone, tell them what's going on."

Truthfully, it was the last thing he wanted to do. He really wanted to stay in the abandoned classroom until he knew for sure it was safe, but he knew that if they didn't alert the castle to what was going on some unsuspecting student could fall prey to the werewolf. Hermione seemed to understand this as she nodded, looking as unsure as Harry felt.

"McGonagall's office in on the floor below," she said. She got off the ground and cast the spell to unlock the door. She opened the door just a sliver and peeked out. "There's a staircase a little further down the corridor that we can head for."

Hearing the unsteadiness in Hermione's voice, Harry knew what he had to do. He was a Gryffindor, after all. "I'll go alone," he said, hoping he sounded brave. "There's no reason for both of us to be put at risk."

Hermione turned away from the door with a frown on her face. "Don't start trying to be nice to me all of a sudden," she said, though it didn't contain any of her usual attitude. "We're going together. Two wands are better than one."

At seeing Harry's mildly shocked look, she continued to say, "Just because I hate you doesn't mean I want to see you mauled to death."

Harry smiled a weak smile that didn't fit with the fearful look in his eyes. He nodded and drew his wand, lining up behind Hermione.

"On the count of three we make for the stairs," she said. "One – two – three!"

They burst from the empty classroom with their wands held out in front of them. The wolf was nowhere in sight, but Harry kept his eyes peeled as they made for the staircase. As they arrived on the staircase Harry was beginning to think the worst part of the night was over. What he saw at the bottom of the stairs made him realize how incredibly wrong he was. The wolf was there, waiting for them, and if Harry didn't know any better he would have thought the damn thing was grinning up at them. It was then that Harry realized that they weren't dealing with a mindless beast. The werewolf was lying in wait for them, it had planned on them going for that particular set of stairs. Now, it had them exactly where it wanted them. They could turn and try to go back to the unused classroom, but being that the wolf was much faster than them it would probably catch at least one of them.

Harry's grip on his wand tightened. He raised it in a flash just as the wolf began it's charge up the stairs.

"_Ater Aduro!_"

A black spark hit the wolf's flank and a patch of black flames sprouted up. The wolf yelped, it fell to the ground and rolled, trying desperately to put out the flames. Harry watched with wide eyes as the wolf yelped and whined and it struck him suddenly that inside the beast he had just cursed was his Uncle Moony.

"Come on!" Hermione said, grabbing Harry by the arm and dragging him back to the unused classroom.

Harry quickly came to his senses and pulled Hermione in the opposite direction, past the stairs and further down the corridor. He knew that there was another staircase, hidden by a tapestry, further down the hall. It went two floors down and would leave them near the Charms corridor, from there they could hopefully get to Professor Flitwick's office.

Harry ripped the tapestry open and was relieved to see that the chaotic architecture of Hogwarts hadn't decided to play a trick on him. He and Hermione haphazardly stumbled down the staircase. Harry kept his eyes on the opening at the end of the stairs, which seemed impossibly far away. Just as he had gotten halfway down the stairs, he heard Hermione call his name. At this point, her voice was nothing more than a high-pitched squeak. He turned and saw her standing a few feet up the stairs, frantically trying to pull her leg free of a jinxed step.

Cursing under his breath, Harry raced back up the steps and grabbed Hermione's leg. "Don't struggle. That only makes it worse," he said, remembering how Percy had told them that on their first night in the castle. He pulled her leg with all his might, but he only served to elicit a pained gasp from her.

"Sorry," he said. He pulled on her leg again with no results.

"Hurry," Hermione said, "I can't hear him anymore."

"What?"

"The wolf. Before I could hear him whining and crying."

Harry stopped trying to free her leg in favor of straining his ears. Indeed, he could no longer hear the yelps and cries of the wolf. The thought briefly crossed his mind that maybe his curse had killed the beast, but then he noticed something on his peripheral. Looking up, he saw the wolf standing at the top of the staircase. The hair on it's left side had been completely burned off and the skin underneath had been blackened. Hermione turned and saw the wolf and let out a frightened squeak.

With adrenaline pumping through his veins, Harry pulled on Hermione's leg again and got it free. Hermione let out a yelp of pain and Harry shouted in shock as the two of them fell and tumbled their way down to the bottom of the stairs.

His body ached from the fall, but Harry knew he didn't have time to lay around. As soon as his tumbling came to an end he pushed himself up on to his hands and knees. He looked up and saw that the wolf had already covered half the length of the stairs. Before he could shout a warning to Hermione, who was lying on her stomach and just barely pushing herself off the ground, the wolf had already launched itself through the air. Harry watched, almost as if in slow motion, as the wolf flew through the air and came to a landing on Hermione's back. Hermione let out a terrified scream as the wolf dug it's claws into her back and bared its teeth.

"Moony, stop!" Harry shouted, still on his hands and knees just a few feet away from where the wolf had Hermione pinned.

The wolf hesitated, flicking it's yellow eyes to Harry.

"Please," Hermoine sobbed, "Please get it off of me!"

Harry gulped hard. He looked around and found his wand, it had clattered out of his hands during the fall. He crawled to where it was, never once taking his eyes off the wolf, and grabbed it. Sitting on his buttocks now, leaning back and holding himself up with one hand, he pointed his wand at the wolf's face.

The wolf titled it's head, curiously regarding the wand held before it.

"Please, Harry …" Hermione quietly sobbed.

Harry's wand arm was shaking, but he knew what he had to do. He jabbed his wand that the werewolf's face and shouted, "_Ater Aduro!_"

The wolf flinched back from Harry's wand, but nothing happened. Harry's eyes widened as he realized he couldn't curse the werewolf again, not with the knowledge that the man inside the beast was his Uncle Moony.

The wolf's jowls raised, exposing razor-sharp teeth. Before Harry could even try to think of another way to stop the wolf, it was too late. Hermione let out a strangled cry as the wolf's teeth tore into the tender area where her neck met her shoulder. There was blood, so much blood. More blood than Harry had ever seen, more blood than he'd ever wanted to see. He could only watch in horror as Hermione's blood spilled to the ground and she weakly fought to try and get the werewolf off of her. Her actions only served to agitate the wolf further, as it dug it's teeth in deeper and ripped at her flesh. Before long, Hermione became deathly still. The werewolf raised it's head, it's jaws dripping blood, and focused on Harry.

Harry was still frozen in the same position with his wand held out before him. He couldn't think, he couldn't move, all he could do was focus on how pale Hermione had become so quickly and how much of her blood was pooled around her motionless form. The wolf approached him slowly, sniffing cautiously at his wand. Harry had no thoughts of trying to run, or of trying to curse the wolf, or of anything.

The wolf moved on to his arm, having decided that the wand was no longer a threat. It sniffed at Harry's wrist, where it could almost taste the blood pumping through his veins. It's throat issued a deep growl and it opened it's jaw and prepared to strike. Before it could clamp it's jaw around his forearm, it was sent flying backwards. It's body twisted in midair before painfully impacting the stairs behind it.

Harry managed to tilt his head back and saw Professor Snape standing behind him with his wand drawn. Snape fired off another curse, but the wolf had already managed to get to it's feet and fled up the stairs. Another curse fired missed as the wolf proved too fast for Snape's aim. By the time Snape got his final curse off the wolf had already made it to the top of the stairs and disappeared from his sight. Snape looked down at Harry, who looked up at him with wide, unfocused eyes. Muttering a curse under his breath, the Potions Master stepped over Harry and knelt down next to Hermione. He quickly went to work waving his wand over her wound in a complex fashion.

"Are you okay, Potter?" he asked, sounding impeccably calm.

"I – I – I –" Was all Harry managed to say. His vision was swimming, things were moving in and out of focus.

"Listen to me, Potter. I need you to go get help. Run to the Hospital Wing and fetch Madam Pomfrey." Snape looked up from Hermione when Harry didn't say anything. "Damn it, Potter, don't you dare pass out!"

But it was too late. Harry's eyes rolled back into his head and he fell into unconsciousness.

**

* * *

**

When Harry awoke next he was surprised to find cheerful sunlight beaming down on him. It took him a moment to recollect what had happened the night before. After he had been saved by Snape and passed out, he had woken up to find himself being levitated through the halls by the Potions Master. Hermione had been there as well, looking just as pale as he'd remembered her being, but Snape had at least cleaned up most of the blood. The Potions Master had deposited him and the unmoving Hermione into beds in the Hospital Wing and Madam Pomfrey had instantly went to work on them. After finding out that Harry suffered from nothing more than a few bumps and bruises, she stuffed a Dreamless Sleep potion down his throat and he'd drifted into unconsciousness.

He blindly reached out until he found his glasses on the bed stand. With his glasses on his face he swiveled his head about on his pillow and noticed that Hermione wasn't in any of the beds near him. He pushed himself up on his elbows to get a better look around the Hospital Wing and saw that Hermione didn't occupy any of the beds he could see. That's when it hit him. Of course they didn't have her in a bed, she was _dead_. No one lost that much blood and lived to talk about it.

He dropped his head back onto his pillow. He felt a tightness in his chest and tears came to his eyes. The image of Hermione's pale, motionless body lying in a pool of blood affixed itself to the forefront of his mind.

"Awake, Mister Potter?" Madam Pomfrey asked as she strode towards his bed. Upon seeing the state he was in she took on a worried expression. "Is something wrong?"

Was something wrong? Harry couldn't believe she'd ask something like that. Did she expect him to be perfectly calm after seeing someone killed? Killed by one of his friends, no less. He opened his mouth to try and say something, but all that came out was a sob.

Madam Pomfrey seemed to understand regardless, as her face softened. "If you're worried about Miss Granger, she's fine."

Harry's eyes widened. "Really?" he croaked.

"She lost a lot of blood, but she should be fine in a few days once the Blood-Replenishing Potion does it's work."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and wiped the tears from his eyes. He and Hermione weren't friends, but he certainly didn't want her to be killed. He also didn't want for Moony to become a killer. Thinking about his uncle, he opened his mouth to question Pomfrey on his whereabouts, but the nurse held up a hand to silence him.

"No questions," she said. "You need your rest. You went through quite an ordeal last night. I'll fetch you a Calming Draught and -"

She was cut off as the doors to the Hospital Wing were thrown open and a flood of people poured in. Harry pushed himself up on his elbows and watched as a short woman dressed in pink strode in followed by a gaggle of reporters and photographers.

"Minister Umbridge!" Madam Pomfrey shrieked, and Harry realized why the woman looked so familiar. "What is the meaning of this?"

"I've come to see the poor boy," Umbride said, her tone sickly sweet. She laid her eyes on Harry and suddenly swept towards him with her arms open. Before he knew what was going on, he found himself wrapped in the Minsters arms, forced to inhale her overpowering perfume which smelled like fresh baked cookies that had been tossed into a vat of honey.

"Minister, I must protest!" Pomfrey shrieked, "The boy needs his rest!"

The Minister ignored the nurse's protests. She pulled back from Harry and gazed at him in what she thought must have been a look of dire concern. To Harry it looked over-dramatized.

"How are you, my dear?" the Minsiter asked him, raking her sausage-like fingers through his hair.

"Er – fine, I suppose," Harry said. He looked over the Minister's shoulder to see the reporters scribbling with their pens and taking pictures with blinding flashes.

"Oh, such a brave boy!" Umbridge crowed, turning to face the reporters, holding her hand at her heart. "Attacked by a foul beast and yet still he puts on a brave face!"

Harry took offense to that. Moony wasn't a beast, he was a good man. Obviously something outside his control had happened. Maybe his potion had stopped working or something. Harry opened his mouth to tell her this, but at that moment all the photographers choose to take pictures of the Minster. The light from the flashbulbs was blinding and Harry was blinking white spots out of his eyes while the Minsiter continued rambling on, apparently unaffected.

"This is why, my friends," she said, "This is why I trade to pass legislation to keep the likes of that beast away from our children, but did anyone on the Governor's Board listen to me? No! But perhaps now that they can see this frazzled child – victim of a man he once trusted – they will listen to me!"

The reporters fervently scribbled on their notepads while the photographers once again snapped a multitude of pictures. Harry didn't know what to do or say, the whole thing was incredibly odd to him. As all the photographers snapped pictures of him he realized he'd never had so many people pay attention to him before, except for at his Quidditch match.

"Mr. Potter!" one of the reporters called, "How betrayed do you feel?"

"Have you contracted lycanthropy?"

"Do you have any words for the werewolf, Remus Lupin?"

"That is enough!" Madam Pomfrey shouted, stamping her foot. "Mr. Potter has been through a tremendous ordeal and needs bed rest!"

The reporters turned from Madam Pomfrey to Minister Umbridge. Umbridge turned to Pomfrey with what was supposed to be a friendly smile.

"You know," she began, her sugary tone laced with acid, "I'm good friends with Headmaster Riddle. I don't think he'd like to hear that a member of his staff was taking such an attitude with me."

Madam Pomfrey bristled and didn't seem about to back down. She was saved the trouble of having to challenge the Minister as the doors to the Hospital Wing banged open and another voice split the air.

"Get away from my son!"

Harry had never heard his mother sound so angry. The group of reporters was forcibly pushed apart as his mother stomped through them and came to stand at his side, his father trailed behind her with his wand in his hand. Her eyes blazed emerald fire as she she turned on the reporters and the Minister.

"Get out!" she thundered. "Get out – get out – GET OUT!"

Apparently, the reporters were more afraid of an angry mother than they were of an angry nurse as they all began shuffling out of the Hospital Wing. A few of the photographers tried to snap some last minute pictures, but when Lily pulled out her wand they beat a hasty retreat. The Minister turned to Lily, still with that faux-friendly smile on her face.

"I told my men to keep visitors out of the Hopsital Wing," she said.

Lily defiantly raised her chin towards the Minister. "Yes, they tried to keep us from seeing our son."

"Hard job to do when your feet a stuck the ground," James said with a dangerous grin, twirling his wand in his hand.

The Minister nodded slowly. "I see." She peered around the older Potters to flash her smile at Harry. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Potter." Then she spun on her heel and strode towards the exit.

"I'm sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Potter," Madam Pomfrey began, but James held up a hand to silence her.

"It's okay," he said with friendly smile.

Lily turned to Harry and the fire disappeared from her eyes. Her features softened considerably as she leaned over his bed and drew him into a hug. Compared to the Minster's overpowering odor, Harry found his mother's subtle scent of peaches calming.

"Oh, Harry," she murmured. She pulled back and looked down on him with tears in her eyes.

"I'm fine, mum," he said softly.

"No, you're not." She grabbed his hand and held it tightly.

Harry looked up at his father and saw that he was just barely holding back tears himself.

"Dad..."

His father leaned over and brushed his bangs away from his forehead, he placed a brief kiss there.

"It wasn't his fault, dad," Harry blurted. "Moony, I mean. He should have been on his potion. Something must have went wrong. It wasn't his fault."

"I know, son," James said, his voice strained, "But it's not him I'm worried about right now."

"I'm _fine_," Harry insisted, "Madam Pomfrey said so herself."

"You are not fine," Lily insisted, squeezing his hand. "What you saw last night – Professor Snape explained it to us. That girl – you saw her get mauled by a werewolf. She almost died. I know you're not fine, Harry."

Harry avoided his mother's eyes as her simplistic description brought forth the image of Hermione's motionless body in his mind. He had to fight to keep tears from springing out of his eyes.

Lily shared a knowing look with James. Turning back to Harry, she said, "We want you to come home with us."

Harry's eyes widened in alarm. "But mum-!

"Not as a punishment," his mother told him quickly, "We just think it would be best if you spent a week or two at home so you can recover."

Harry went back to avoiding his mother's eyes. "I'm fine staying here at school."

"Stop saying that!" Lily said. She kept her voice even but there was a definite edge. "You are not _fine_!"

"Lily," James said. He placed a hand on her shoulder and locked eyes with his son. "We're not going to force you to come home with us, but we think it'd be best. The castle's going to be a circus for the next couple of days. There are ministry officials and reporters all over the place. Don't you want to get away from that?"

Harry looked from his father to his mother, who silently pleaded with him to go home with them. "I'll – I'll think about it," he said after a while.

"Okay," his mother said, stroking his hair, "Okay."

Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat. "I – um – I don't want to be rude," she said, refusing to make eye contact with Lily, "But I think it would be best if Mr. Potter – Harry – got some rest. Alone."

Lily frowned, but nodded after a moment. She turned to her son and said, "We'll come see you tomorrow, okay?"

Harry nodded.

She leaned forward and planted a kiss on his cheek. His father reached down and ruffled his hair. Harry watched as they left the Hospital Wing. He could tell it was taking all of his mother's strength to actually leave him alone.

"Here, Potter," Madam Pomfrey said, handing him a vial of light blue potion. "It's a Calming Draught."

Harry took the offered vial and drank the potion. It tasted like lake water, but it didn't matter. As he ingested the potion, he found that nothing really mattered. Not it's taste, not the offer to come home his parents had made him, not even the strange spectacle the Minister had put on. The memories of the night before, which had been lurking on the edge of his mind since he'd woken up, were gone and his mind was blissfully blank. He handed the empty vial to Madam Pomfrey and laid back in his bed with a content sigh.

"Get some rest, Potter," Pomfrey said, taking the empty vial and walking back to her office.

Harry spent the rest of the day lying in his bed. Though he wasn't suffering from any injuries, Madam Pomfrey refused to let him out of bed except to go to the bathroom. He didn't really mind though, the Calming Draught had made him incredibly agreeable. He was fine with spending the entirety of the day lying in bed, reading the magazines and books that Pomfrey had provided him to past the time. Meanwhile, Pomfrey herself frittered about a bed at the far end of the Hospital Wing that was guarded by privacy screens. Harry hadn't noticed the bed before, but he assumed that was where they were keeping Hermione.

The Calming Draught got him through most of the day. By the time it had started to wear off it was already dark so Pomfrey fed him his dinner and then gave him another vial of Dreamless Sleep Potion to get him through the night. As Harry lay back in his bed, he wondered if all the potions were really necessary when he wasn't even hurt. Before he could actually voice these thoughts his eyes drooped shut and he was fast asleep.

His dreamless sleep ended prematurely as he awoke to the sensation of someone nudging his shoulder.

"Harry!" someone whispered. "Wake up, mate!"

Harry blearily blinked his eyes open. The Hospital Wing was mostly dark, only a few torches on the wall had been left burning. He turned to the person that had woken him. It was hard to see, what with the darkness and the fact that he didn't have his glasses on, but he was still able to make out Ron's orange hair. He assumed that the other blurry masses next to him where the rest of his friends. He grabbed his glasses to confirm.

"Hey guys," he said, pushing himself into a sitting position. His head still felt fuzzy, it seemed that the Dreamless Sleep potion wasn't letting him go. "What are you doing here?"

"We came to see you, of course," Ron said. "No one really knows what's going on. The professor's aren't saying anything. Pomfrey wouldn't let us in during visiting hours, so we snuck out of bed."

Harry blinked a couple of times, trying to piece Ron's words together with his disoriented mind. "Oh," he said quietly as the memories of the night before cut through the haze of his tired mind. Recalling the memories seemed to weigh him down; his shoulders sagged and he drooped his head a bit.

"We heard you were attacked," Dean said.

"By a werewolf!" Ron said, as if were a juicy bit of gossip.

Harry nodded.

"You didn't get bit, did you?" Seamus asked, actually taking a step back from Harry's bed.

Harry shook his head. "Hermione was the one who got bitten. Snape showed up and saved me at the last minute."

"Hermione?" Ron questioned, "So it's true. What were you doing with _her_?"

Harry explained how the night's events had unfolded.

Ron scoffed. "That's what you get when you're a tattle-tell."

Everyone faced Ron with looks of disbelief.

"What? It's true. If she hadn't been snitching on Harry she wouldn't have got bitten."

Harry's breath hitched in his throat as he realized that what Ron was saying was true, just not in the way Ron meant it. "You're right," he said, surprising even Ron, "If it wasn't for me she wouldn't have got bitten."

"I didn't mean it like that!" Ron said, "You can't go blaming yourself. If it's anyone's fault, it's that nutter Lupin's."

Harry decided to ignore Ron's flip-flop in favor of focusing on the personal attack on Moony. "It's not Moony – Professor Lupin's fault!" he insisted, "It was an accident! There must have been something wrong with his potion!"

"That's not what I heard." Dean nudged Ron with his elbow, but the redhead ignored him and continued on. "Lavender told me that Parvati told her that her sister Padma heard from one of the Ravenclaw prefects that-"

"Just get on with it!" Seamus said with a roll of his eyes.

Ron frowned. "Anyway, the Minstry officials haven't come forward with their official report yet, but word is that Lupin purposefully loosened the bolts on his door so he could get out and attack the school!"

Harry balked. "That's rubbish!" he said, just barely remembering to keep his voice down so Madam Pomfrey wouldn't know he had visitors after hours. "Professor Lupin would never do anything like that!"

"It sounds ridiculous," Dean said, "But you did say the werewolf was able to knock Lupin's door off it's hinges, right? Would a werewolf be strong enough to do that by itself?"

Everyone was silent for a moment as they thought about it. In his lecture on werewolves, Professor Lupin had dispelled many myths about them; such as their ability to regenerate and that they had superior strength even in their untransformed states. However, he had never been specific on how strong a transformed werewolf was.

"It had to have been strong enough," Harry finally declared, "I saw it myself and I know Professor Lupin would never set himself on anyone."

"Are you sure?" Dean asked. "Were the hinges loose before you got there?"

"I don't know!" Harry said, sounding angrier than he'd intended. "I didn't notice they were loose until Hermione pointed it out, and that was after the wolf had been thrashing against the door."

Dean nodded and dropped his line of questioning.

"Maybe," Ron said, "Maybe it was all a set up? Maybe Granger was the one who loosened the hinges? Maybe she led you there so Lupin would bite _you_!"

Harry groaned and fell back to his pillow.

"What? I wouldn't put it past her!"

"She wouldn't have even been there if it weren't for me!" Admitting it out loud sent a pang through his heart.

"Why were you out of bed anyway?" Dean asked.

"Because I wanted to go down the to kitchens of a snack," Harry answered shortly. He didn't feel like talking to his friends anymore. He didn't feel like talking about the attack. He didn't want to think about how it was his fault Hermione had nearly died and now had to deal with being a werewolf. He didn't want to think about Moony. He realized he didn't even know what had happened to Moony and he didn't ask because he truly didn't want to know. He just wanted to slip back into a Dreamless Sleep and hopefully Madam Pomfrey would have another Calming Draught for him in the morning so he wouldn't have to worry about any of this.

"You've been doing that a lot lately," Dean said.

Harry glared up at him. Dean, always the perceptive one. It got to be annoying after a while. "I don't want to talk about this anymore," he said. "I need to get back to sleep."

He was trying to sound polite, but he could tell his friends were put off.

"Go back to sleep? We just got here!" Ron said. "And we risked our butts sneaking down here!"

"Sorry," Harry said, though he didn't mean it. He rolled his head on his pillow and looked to where his things had been piled. "The Map and the Cloak should be with my stuff. You can use them to get back to the common room."

Ron made to protest further, but Neville stopped him by putting a hand on his shoulder. "I hope you feel better, Harry. We'll see you later."

Harry gave Neville a small smile. "I'll probably see you guys tomorrow. I don't know how long Pomfrey plans to keep me here."

The rest of his friends bade him farewell as they grabbed the Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map. Ron's farewell was a bit grumpy as he was still put-off at Harry sending them away, but Harry was too upset to care. Once all four of them had squeezed under the Cloak, he wished them good night and rolled over and shut his eyes. It took a few minutes, but he was able to fall asleep and thankfully it was still dreamless.

When he awoke the next morning it was to his mother and father's smiling faces.

"Morning," his dad said.

"Morning," he said in return, rubbing at his eyes.

"How'd you sleep?" his mother asked.

Harry thought about the late night interruption his friends had provided. "Fine."

"Did you decide if you'd come home with us or not?"

In truth, Harry hadn't given their offer anymore thought after they'd left the day before. He could definitely see the advantages in going home. He wouldn't have to deal with people constantly questioning him about the attack. If there were still reporters lurking around the school he certainly didn't want to deal with them. On the other hand, he knew he didn't really have a reason to go home. He wasn't the one who'd nearly been killed, after all. Everyone would think he was weak if he went home just to avoid a few questions.

"I – I think I'll stay here, if that's okay," he said.

A look of disappointment instantly settled over his mother's face. She even looked a bit hurt that he'd turn them down. The negative response he'd expected from her didn't come however. She merely grabbed his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Whatever you think is best," she said, though the words came out a bit forced.

James reached down and patted his wife on the shoulder. Turning to his son, he said, "Just know that if things here get too crazy you can send us an owl and we'll be up here right quick."

Lily nodded.

An hour later, Harry had been discharged from the Hospital Wing and had walked with his parents to the front doors of Hogwarts. He received tight embraces from both of them as they said their goodbyes and reminded him to owl them if he had any problems. Harry promised them that he would and watched them from the steps of Hogwarts until they reached the front gates and Apparated away.

He walked back into the Entrance Hall and began his trek up to Gryffindor Tower. It would still be a few hours until lunch was served and he knew his friends were in class. Madam Pomfrey had been nice enough to excuse him from class for the rest of the day. As he made his way, he thought about Ron's words from the night before, about how Lupin had loosened the hinges on his door. If Lupin had done that (and Harry was still quite adamant in thinking that he hadn't) then there would certainly be some sort of evidence on the door, right? That's what Harry told himself as he took a detour from his path to Gryffindor Tower and headed towards the Defense corridor.

He found Lupin's office looking just like it had been left that night. The door had been picked up off the floor and leaned up against a wall. It seemed that no one had taken the time to repair the door with a simple wave of their wand, leaving Lupin's wrecked office open to all. Harry ignored the displaced door and instead studied the doors hinges. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but whatever it was he didn't find it. As far as he could tell, there was on sign of foul play on the door's hinges.

Felling a bit brave, he took a deep breath and stepped into Lupin's office. Once again, he wasn't sure what he was looking for, but after kicking over a few books he found it. A potion vial lay broken on the floor. Seeing it there jogged Harry's mind. Lupin shouldn't have been feral while on the potion, which meant there must have been something wrong with the potion. If Snape was the one who had been brewing the potion, then that meant he had done something wrong. Further more, when Snape had saved Harry from being bitten, he was on the fourth floor. Sure, Harry and Hermione had made quite a racket while running from the wolf, but they hadn't been loud enough to rouse Snape all the way from the dungeons. It all fit together in Harry's mind like some twisted puzzle. In the end, the picture was clear enough to him: everything was Snape's fault.

Without sparing a moment more of his time thinking, he rushed out of Lupin's office with his wand in hand, intent on going down to the dungeons and getting some answers from his least favorite professor. He knew that Snape was probably in the middle of teaching a class, but he didn't care. Sure enough, when he threw open the door to Snape's classroom he found the Potions Master in the middle of teaching a class of older students. Every eye in the room turned to him.

"Potter? What's the meaning of this?"

Harry stood in the doorway to the classroom, huffing and puffing, with his wand tightly gripped in his hand.

"You're not going to try to curse me again, are you?" Snape said, striding forward. "Because I must warn you, you caught me off guard last time. If you try again, I won't be so _nice_."

"This is all your fault," Harry managed to grind out. It was honestly taking all of his will _not _to curse Snape again.

"You'll have to be more specific."

"You – you – you messed with Professor Lupin's potion!" Harry raged, "It's your fault he attacked me!"

The students in the classroom murmured excitedly amongst themselves.

Snape narrowed his eyes in a glare. He swept forward, his robes billowing behind him, and pushed Harry out into the hallway. He stepped out into the hallway himself and closed the door on the peering eyes of his students.

"You know, Potter, this would almost be funny if it weren't so sad," he said with a sneer. "Your father was here just yesterday with that same dumb look on his face, accusing me of sabotaging his beast of a friend."

Harry bristled, but Snape held up a hand to halt his outburst.

"Tell me this, Potter, since you've got everything all figured out. If I sabotaged Lupin's Wolfsbane potion – which is nearly impossible to do without killing the drinker – why would he not come forward? Or do you not know?"

Harry tried not to let his confusion drain away his anger. Before he could even think up a response Snape continued on.

"Obviously you _don't_ know. It would make too much sense for you to do some thinking before you interrupt my class. No one has seen Lupin since the night he attacked you and Granger. At the moment it's looking like he's run off into the Forbidden Forest to cavort with his fellow beasts. Doesn't sound like the actions of an innocent man, does it? And – once again you'd know this if you'd bothered to do any sort of thinking before marching down here – the Ministry has already issued it's report on the incident and declared that Lupin was purposefully not taking his full dosage of Wolfsbane."

Harry could only stare up at Snape, dumbfounded by all this new information. He knew it wasn't right, he knew it couldn't be right. Why would Moony not take his full dosage of Wolfsbane? Before he could even think about asking Snape, the Potions Master had turned around and opened the door to his classroom.

"By the way, Potter," he said without looking back. "That'll be fifty house points and a week's worth of detentions."

And then he stepped back into his classroom and slammed the door shut. Leaving Harry to his thoughts.

Harry knew it couldn't be true. Someone had to have set Moony up. But for the life of him he couldn't think of anyone who would actually want to set a werewolf loose on Hogwarts.


	11. Chapter 11

Book I

Chapter 11

Above All Else

"It has to be in here somewhere," Ron said, frantically digging through his trunk. "It _has _to be."

Harry, laying on his own bed, listened to Ron's desperate search for his Charms essay with indifference. His mind was elsewhere. It had been a week since he had been chased through the castle by a werewolf and things hadn't gotten any better. News of his altercation with Snape had spread through the castle, but by the next day everyone had forgotten because the next day the Daily Prophet's morning issue was devoted to covering the werewolf attack. The article painted Moony as a dangerous beast, Harry as an innocent school boy betrayed by a trusted teacher, and Minister Umbridge as the hero who would stand up and fight the werewolf threat she had seen coming years ago. Hermione wasn't mentioned.

Harry told anyone who would listen that the article was a total farce, but nobody wanted to listen. All anyone wanted to do was pity him. Girls stopped him in the hall to give him hugs, some of them cried. Boys patted him on the back and gave him looks that said "hang in there". Even a few of his Professors had pulled him aside and asked how he was doing. No one seemed interested in the truth.

Though the most the article would say about the whereabouts of Remus Lupin was that he had yet to be found, rumor started around Hogwarts that he had taken refuge in the Forbidden Forest. This had started a panic amongst the students, who feared that Lupin would come back to "finish the job" he'd started that night with Hermione Granger. As time went on, the rumors grew wilder and wilder. By the end of the week, Remus Lupin was a master werewolf who could transform anytime he wanted and was communing with the beasts of the Forbidden Forest and rallying them together for an attack on Hogwarts. It was all rubbish, of course, but that didn't stop Headmaster Riddle from introducing harsher punishments on any students caught out of their common room after curfew.

Harry had been hoping things would calm down now that a week had passed, and his hopes had seemed to be answered. That is until he had heard the news at breakfast that morning that Hermione was being released from the Hospital Wing. Many students were scared of her now that she had contracted lycanthrophy, but that wasn't what Harry was worried about. He didn't care that she was a werewolf, he cared that she would blame him for what had happened to her. He'd had his wand, he'd had it pointed at the werewolf as it stood on top of her. If he had been in her position he certainly would blame himself. He had told his friends about his worries and they'd tried to placate him.

"_Mate, if what you told me is true then you did everything you could to stop that mangy beast except for tackling it yourself,_" Ron had said. "_You've got nothing to feel sorry about._"

That hadn't reassured Harry and he'd spent the better part of the morning worrying over what he'd say to Hermione when he inevitably ran into her. Luckily for him, she hadn't showed up to any classes yet and hadn't even been at lunch. He was hoping that he could at least go the rest of the day without seeing her. Maybe by the end of the day he would know what to say.

"Bloody hell, Harry! Can you stop daydreaming and help me look for my essay!"

Harry snapped to attention and turned his gaze on Ron, who was still digging though his trunk. He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of his bed. "I don't think you're going to find it in there."

Ron stopped his search and let out a frustrated sigh. "Well, I don't know where else it could be."

Harry scanned the floor of their dormitory, which was littered with junk Ron had haphazardly thrown around, and a piece of paper caught his eye. It wasn't Ron's essay, but he reached down and picked it off the floor anyway. It was a paper clipping from the Daily Prophet, the article that had been written about Ron's journey to Hogwarts. Seeing the article brought back memories of his first day of school, which seemed so far away now.

"What's that you've got there?" Ron asked, then seeing what it was he quickly stood up and snatched it from Harry's hand.

Harry smirked. "I thought you didn't care about having an article in the paper."

"I don't," Ron said, going red around the ears. "It's just – It's a rubbish article. I don't even know why I kept it. Wasn't even on the front page." He balled the clipping up and tossed it back in his trunk. He then huffily went about picking up his rubbish from the floor and placing it back in his trunk.

Harry blinked as a thought struck him. "Hey, do you remember why your article wasn't on the front page?"

"Some rubbish story about the Ministry being attacked."

Harry's mind went about piecing together clues. "And the attack, it happened the night of the Welcoming Feast, right?"

Ron stopped what he was doing to turn and stare at Harry. "What are you getting at?"

"Dumbledore hid his Weapon the night of the Welcoming Feast," Harry said, his tone quick with excitement, "Maybe – Maybe whatever Dumbledore hid that night, it was originally at the Ministry! Maybe he hid it at Hogwarts to protect it!"

Ron's jaw dropped slightly. He gaped at Harry for a moment before moving over to his bed and sitting down. Scratching his head in thought, he said, "Wow – I guess it makes sense."

Harry stood up and started pacing, careful not to step on any of Ron's junk. "It makes perfect sense! He knew the Ministry wasn't safe, so he moved his Weapon to Hogwarts."

Ron adopted a thoughtful expression for a moment before speaking. "But why wouldn't he tell Riddle about it?"

"Maybe he didn't have time?"

"He could at least send an owl. You know: 'Hey mate, I'm going to be hiding a dangerous weapon in the castle, hope you don't mind.' Something like that, at least."

Harry paced and thought about Ron's point. The only conclusion he could come to was the same conclusion he'd already reached months ago; that Dumbledore didn't trust Riddle. It still didn't make anymore sense than it had months ago. "I'm not sure," he finally said. "The only thing I can think of is that they don't trust each other, but that ..."

"Yeah, that doesn't make sense. Also, why would Dumbledore hide his Weapon at the British Ministry? Why not at his own house or Nurmengard?"

Harry fell back onto his bed with a sigh, the excitement draining from his body. "I guess it doesn't make a lot of sense."

"It was a good idea, I suppose," Ron said. "Just doesn't make a lot of sense when you think about it."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but the chiming of bells in the distance cut him off. He stood up and said, "We're going to be late for Charms."

Ron groaned. "Go on without me. I've got to find this ruddy essay."

Harry nodded and grabbed his book-bag off the foot of his bed. He was out of his dorm room in an instant and descended the stairs into the common room. He climbed through the portrait hole and saw the last thing he wanted to see on the other side: Hermione Granger. Harry couldn't help but be drawn to her neck, where scars in the shape of werewolf teeth crept above her collar.

Harry panicked. He was put on the spot as Hermione came to a stop a few feet away from him. She crossed her arms and regarded him with a cold expression in her eyes. For his part, Harry scratched at the back of his head and looked down at the ground. After a moment, Hermione made to move past him.

Harry knew he had to do something. He spun around and blurted, "I'm sorry!"

Truth be told, he wasn't sure why he was apologizing.

Hermione, already halfway through the portrait hole, turned back to look at him. There was no warmth in her eyes, not even the angry fire of a glare.

"Don't ever talk to me again," she said, her voice lifeless.

She then clambered through the portrait hole and the portrait swung shut, leaving Harry confused. He had expected an explosion, anger. He wasn't sure if what he'd gotten was better or worse. 'Don't ever talk to me again'? They had never been on friendly terms before.

The portrait of the Fat Lady looked down on him with pity. "Oh, chin up, dear," she said, "There are plenty of fish in the sea."

Harry shook his head and sighed before turning and walking to Charms class.

* * *

He was dreaming again, but this time it was different. He wasn't running down a endless, dark corridor, but an endless, dark stairway. He wasn't alone this time. There was a girl, pale and frightened, running next to him. A look over his shoulder and he saw what he knew would be there. No matter how much the dream changed, at least one thing stayed the same. Those eyes, golden and glowing, were chasing after the girl and him.

He grabbed the girl's arm and pulled her down the stairs, urging her to run faster. It didn't matter how fast they ran. They could never put enough distance between themselves and those golden eyes. The bottom of the stairs was nowhere in sight. The longer they ran the more tired he became. His legs began to feel heavy, his breath became labored. It wasn't long before his tired leg slipped on one of the stone steps and he found himself tumbling down the stairs, dragging the girl with him.

There was no pain in falling, only a deep sense of dread. He knew, as always, that the golden eyes would be upon him again and he knew, as always, that there would be no one to help him. His falling finally came to a stop and he tried to get to his feet. His legs were too weak, however, and he could only succeed in pushing himself to his knees. He was alone now, he had lost the girl somewhere during the fall. A look up at the stairs and he saw the golden eyes getting closer, but the eyes weren't disembodied this time. This time they were attached to a large, silver wolf. The wolf was nearly twice the size of a normal wolf; it's claws, large and jagged, cut into the marble stone of the stairs with every step. Its razor sharp teeth gleamed in the darkness and its jaw dripped blood.

Harry clenched his eyes shut and prepared for what he knew was to come. He heard the wolf let out a howl and charge, but the strike he expected never came. When he opened his eyes again he saw that the girl was back, standing between the wolf and him with her arms spread out. The wolf jumped on her and tackled her to the ground in front of Harry.

Harry watched with a vague sense of familiarity as the wolf tore into the girls throat. He watched as the girl's blood pooled on the ground and she went pale. When she finally stopped struggling, the wolf raised its bloody jaw from her throat and turned its golden eyes on Harry once again. Harry flinched as the wolf jumped at him, but nothing happened. The wolf phased through him and disappeared.

Harry looked around. He was alone now, save for the motionless body of the girl. He returned his eyes to her pale form and was surprised to see that her blood hadn't merely pooled around her; it had pooled in a way that spelled out a message.

'_For the Greater Good'_

Harry only had a second to consider the message before he was distracted by the sound of footsteps. Looking up, he saw Dumbledore descending the staircase dressed in splendid blue robes. Dumbledore reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped over the girl's dead body with a casual disregard. He came to a stop just before Harry. As he was still on his knees, Harry had to tilt his head back to look Dumbledore in the eyes. Dumbledore looked down on him with the most grandfatherly of smiles.

"Do you understand?" he asked, his voice loud and booming.

And then Harry was awake.

"Young master, you must be waking up!" someone said urgently, poking him in the side.

His eyes snapped open and he could just make out a set of large blue eyes hovering above his bed. He let out a scream and jumped out of bed, nearly tearing the curtains off in the process. His scream roused his dorm mates and they all began climbing out of bed in alarm and turning on their lights. With the lights on, Harry saw an elf – Bibby, if he remembered the name correctly – standing on his bed looking ashamed.

"Harry? What's going on?" Neville asked, looking between Harry and the elf.

"I'm – I'm not sure," Harry said, trying his best to get his breathing under control.

"My apologies, Young Masters," Bibby said, looking about at the grumpy faces surrounding him. "But I is having news about Master Dumbledore's Weapon."

Harry furrowed his brow. He had forgotten that he'd told the elf to tell him about any news regarding the Weapon. He hadn't spoken to the elf since before the Winter Holiday.

"Couldn't this news wait until morning?" Ron asked, rubbing at his eyes.

"No, sirs!" Bibby said, bounding off Harry's bed. "Master Headmaster Riddle and Master Professor Snape are looking for Dumbledore's Weapon right now!"

"They're not going to find it," Ron said.

"Yeah," Harry said, "It's in a cursed room that's invisible to most people."

Bibby shook his head, his ears flapping about his head. "But they's found that room, sir! They is trying to get into it right now!"

Harry's eyes widened.

"Well, that's that, then," Ron said, dropping back to his bed. "Looks like we lost out on finding the weapon."

"We can't give up!" Harry said, "We've come too far!"

"Not much else we can do," Ron said with a shrug.

Harry turned to Bibby. "Have Headmaster Riddle and Professor Snape gotten through the cursed door yet?"

"No, sir!"

"Then there's still time!"

Harry grabbed the Marauder's Map from his nightstand and activated it. The cursed door didn't show up on the map, but he had memorized its location. Sure enough, he found the dots of Riddle and Snape standing outside the door. Riddle was pacing back and forth while Snape remained stationary.

"They're there," Harry said, "But I don't think they've gotten through the door yet."

"What are we going to do?" Dean asked.

"We can get down there under the cloak. We'll need to distract them so we can get to the Weapon."

"But only three of us can fit under the cloak," Neville said.

"And more importantly," Dean said, "We still don't know _how _to get to the Weapon."

Harry turned to Dean and locked eyes with him. He gave him the most confident stare he could muster. "I've got it figured out."

He really had no idea, but he knew that if they didn't act soon they would never find out the truth behind Dumbledore's Weapon.

Dean opened his mouth to protest, but Seamus cut him off. "All right!" he said with a grin, "Sounds exciting! What's the plan?"

The gears in Harry's head began to turn. "Only three of us can fit under the cloak, so I guess the two that can't fit will be in charge of the distraction. They'll draw Riddle and Snape away from the door while the rest of us try to get at Dumbledore's Weapon."

"But if Headmaster Riddle catches anyone out of bed they'll be expelled," Neville said, wringing his hands.

"No one's ever been expelled just for being out of bed," Ron said. His 'give up' attitude of before had seemingly given way to excitement as he stood up from his bed and began pacing the room.

"Which of us will be in charge of the distraction?" Dean asked.

"I'll do it," Ron said. "If worse comes to worse I doubt Riddle would expel me." He paused and faced his friends with a wide grin. "I mean, do you really think he'd expel Ron _Weasley_?"

Harry couldn't help but grin in return. He wasn't sure where Ron's confidence was coming from, but he liked it. He wasn't the only one.

"I'll go with you," Seamus said. "I wouldn't be any help figuring out how to get the Weapon anyway. Might as well have some fun."

"We're agreed then?" Harry asked, looking each of his friends in the eyes and finding steely determination there. Smiling so hard he felt that his face might split in two, he said, "Let's go find Dumbledore's Weapon!"

* * *

Talking about it was one thing, but actually doing it was another. Harry and his friends managed to sneak out of Gryffindor Tower and make it to the seventh floor corridor where the cursed room was located without an ounce of trouble, but as they stood around the corner preparing to make their push for Dumbledore's Weapon Harry couldn't stop his heart from nearly beating out of his chest. His friends didn't look to be feeling any better. Neville was sweating profusely, Ron was pale, Seamus was shaking and Dean was worrying his bottom lip. Despite their confident talk earlier they each knew that there was a very real possibility that Headmaster Riddle would expel them if he found out what they were up to. Still, there was an aura of nervous excitement between them. They certainly weren't backing down. They were Gryffindor's after all.

Harry chanced a peak around the corner, and he could just make out Snape and Riddle further down the corridor. He turned to Seamus and Ron.

"Ready?" he asked them, whispering. Each boy nodded and Harry took out his invisibility cloak. Neville and Dean crowded around him and he threw the cloak over the three of them. "On my mark," Seamus and Ron readied themselves, "Go!"

Ron and Seamus dashed around the corner, making as much noise as possible. They laughed and shouted and brandished their wands, shooting bright and colorful sparks at each other. Harry watched as Ron and Seamus' distraction made its way down the hall where it grabbed the attention of Riddle and Snape. The two professors gave chase and Ron and Seamus lead them down the corridor, away from Harry and the others.

Once Harry was sure that Riddle and Snape had disappeared down the far end of the corridor he, Neville and Dean shuffled down the corridor. Harry's heart sank when he saw that the cursed door was already open. However, a quick look into the room revealed that Dumbledore's weapon was right where he'd last seen it, sitting atop a marble pedestal at the far end of the room wrapped in a red cloth.

"It's still there!" Harry said.

"That's it?" Neville asked, looking upon the small round object with disappointment.

"How do we get to it?" Dean asked.

Harry scanned the dark room, the black runes still marred the walls and ceiling. He knew that if he stepped into the room he'd descend into the black void again and despite he's bold talk he had no idea of how to get past that.

"Harry?"

Harry shushed Dean. He had been hoping that he'd figure something out once he'd gotten to the room. Now that he stood before the room his mind was frozen and time was ticking away. It wouldn't be long before Riddle and Snape returned.

"We have to figure out a way to get around those black runes," Harry said.

"I thought you had it figured out!" Dean said, his voice rising.

"I lied," Harry admitted, "But it doesn't matter because we can figure this out! Maybe if one of us levitates another..."

"I don't know," Neville said, "I can barely levitate a feather."

Harry frowned. Neville was right. Levitating bigger objects wasn't a problem for him, but he'd never tried levitating a person. Flitwick had forbidden them from trying because of all the ways it could go wrong. Then Harry realized that he had made the situation more complex than it needed to be.

"Why don't we just levitate the Weapon across the room to us?"

"We could try," Dean said, "But don't you think Riddle and Snape would have tried that already? The room probably has protections against that kind of thing."

Harry cursed under his breath. Riddle and Snape were much smarter and talented than he and his friends, so of course they had already tried something as simple as a levitation spell. Furthermore, there were probably loads of other things Riddle and Snape had tried that hadn't worked, things that Harry and his friends had no idea how to do. If Harry wanted to get Dumbledore's weapon he would have to think of something that two of the smartest wizards in the school had failed to imagine.

Neville and Dean were looking to Harry expectantly. He had gotten them into this situation by rushing at a problem head first without a plan. He realized then that the only solution was continue rushing forward without plan. So, without warning, he ducked out of the invisibility cloak and rushed into the room. Neville and Dean called after him, but as soon as his foot landed on the black runes his world was consumed by darkness and their voices were cut off. He stood in the darkness for a moment waiting for Dumbledore's voice.

"Do you understand?" it asked, loud and booming just as before. Harry knew he wouldn't have long before he was thrown out of the room.

"Understand what?" Harry asked, but the only answer he received was a repetition of the original question.

"Do you understand?"

And then it hit him. He remembered his dream from earlier in the night. Dumbledore had shown up at the end of that dream and asked him then if he understood. Then he remembered the blood in the dream, it had spelled out '_For the great good_' just like the runes on the door spelled out the greater good. He knew then that somehow the dream was connected to the Dumbledore's Weapons. How that had happened was beyond him and he knew he didn't have time to think on it right then and there. He instead focused on the dream. It had been a recreation of his night with the werewolf, with the twist at the end being that the girl who was with him sacrificed herself for him. It was her blood that had spelled out the message.

It was then that Harry realized. Sacrifice! The dream had been telling him how important sacrifice was. What was it Dumbledore had said at his Christmas party?

"_The Greater Good requires sacrifice above all else._

"I – I think I understand," Harry said.

"Do you?"

"Sacrifice?"

"Indeed," the voice said, sounding pleased, "And what will you sacrifice?"

Harry hadn't thought that far ahead. What did he have to sacrifice? His life? Certainly it wouldn't come to that. He carried nothing of value with him. All he had were his pajamas and his wand.

His wand. He could sacrifice his wand, but as the thought hit him he realized it was the last thing he wanted to do. He loved his wand. He loved the way it felt in his hands, he loved the tingling sensation he felt whenever he successfully cast a spell. He could always get another wand, but it would never be the same.

He had no other choice. Finding Dumbledore's Weapon had become an obsession to him. He wasn't sure why, but he knew he had to find it, even if it meant sacrificing his wand.

"My wand," he finally said, "I'll sacrifice my wand.

"Very well," Dumbledore's voice intoned, "Drop it to the ground."

Reluctantly, Harry pulled his wand out of his pocket and dropped it to the inky, black ground. As his wand hit the ground, it made no sound. The darkness on the floor warped around the object, swallowing it slowly like quicksand. He was struck with the sensation of having lost a part of himself, and was instantly overwhelmed with regret.

The darkness peeled back and Harry found himself once again standing in the unused classroom that housed Dumbledore's weapon. The black runes that had once covered the room were gone. The weapon itself was still in its place, and Harry was now standing before it. He took a look over his shoulder and saw that the door to the room was closed.

Briefly steeling himself, Harry reached out and grabbed the Weapon, leaving it under it's red wrapping just in case it was dangerous to the touch. He barely held the thing for a second before he was lifted up and thrown backwards out of the room, the door opening by itself to let him out. He collided with Neville and Dean, who were still standing outside the door under the Invisibility Cloak, and the three of them collapsed into a half-visible heap. The door to the cursed room remained open just long enough for Dumbledore's disembodied voice to boom out of it.

"You now know what it feels like to sacrifice for the greater good. Do not forget it."

And with that Harry's wand flew out of the room and hit him between the eyes. At that moment he couldn't figure out what he was more excited about; that he had finally gotten his hands on Dumbledore's Weapon or that he had gotten his wand back.

"Harry?" Neville asked as he managed to pull himself out from under Dean and Harry and stand up, "What happened?"

"I've got it," Harry exclaimed, clambering to his feet and putting his wand back in his pocket, "I've got Dumbledore's Weapon!"

Dean was the last to stand up. "What is it?" he asked.

"I don't know," Harry said, as he examined his prize still in its wrapping. It was lighter than he'd thought it'd be.

"Well, we don't have time to find out now," Dean said, "I've been keeping watch of the Map. Riddle and Snape are headed back this way!"

Harry sighed. He'd have to put off finding out what the Weapon was for at least a little while longer. Without another word he threw the Cloak over Dean, Neville and himself, just as Riddle and Snape rounded the corner at the end of the corridor. The three boys snuck down the corridor and made their way back to Gryffindor Tower as quietly as possible. The whole time Harry cradled Dumbledore's Weapon against his body, tempted the whole time to just rip off the cloth wrapped around it.

They managed to clamber through the portrait hole, sneak through the empty common room and up the stairs to their dormitory. Outside the door to their dorm, they finally shed the Invisibility Cloak and then waltzed into the room like triumphant heroes returning from battle. Ron and Seamus were already in the room waiting for them, expectant looks on their faces.

Grinning widely, Harry held up his package, "We've got it!"

Seamus and Ron let out shouts of excitement and quickly began urging Harry to show it to them. Not wanting to wait a second longer, Harry ripped the cloth off. Underneath it was a glass ball filled with swirling mist. The five boys stared at the object in Harry's hand, waiting for something to happen.

"Is...that it?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded.

"What does it do?" Seamus asked.

"Maybe it's better if we don't find out," Neville said, "It is a weapon after all."

"It doesn't look like any weapon I've ever seen," Dean said, "Maybe it's something else."

"It has to be a weapon," Harry said, "That's why Riddle and Snape were looking for it. They said it was a weapon."

"Maybe they were wrong?"

"Wait a minute," Ron said, "Look here," he pointed to the center of the glass ball, "It look like there's a seam here. It looks like you can open it."

Upon closer inspection, Harry realized that Ron was right. There was a seam running along the glass ball, making it two halves held together.

"Should I try to open it?" he asked.

"Why wouldn't you?" Seamus responded.

Harry couldn't argue with that logic, so he carefully gripped each half of the ball and twisted. The two halves came apart easily and Harry held his breath as he expected the mist to spill out. Instead the mist floated in midair, shimmering. The boys marveled at it.

"Should – should we touch it?" Ron asked.

"Be my guest," Dean said, whispering.

Ron frowned, but held his hand up and inched it towards the mist. Just before he reached the mist it shifted. It spread out and formed itself into the ghostly image of a woman. The woman was old. She had a hunchback and stringy hair, a long nose with a wart on the tip and fingernails that hadn't been trimmed in years. Her clothes were rags wrapped around her body in a way that was barely decent.

Ron withdrew his hand as if stung."What the bloody hell!"

The other boys jumped back. Harry drew his wand, dropping the glass ball halves in the process – luckily they didn't break. Before anyone could say anything, the ghostly apparition began speak in deep, guttural tones. The boys listened in stunned silence. The apparition finished its message quickly, and once it was done it dissipated back into a simple ball of shimmering mist.

"What was that?" Ron asked. "What did she say?"

"I couldn't understand her," Harry said, "She was speaking a different language.

"It was German," Neville said, his voice shaky, "I've taken a few lessons."

"Well? What did she say?" Seamus asked.

"I – I don't know," Neville said, ashamed for letting his friends down, "I was never very good at it."

"Did you understand any part of it?" Harry asked, desperate for some understanding.

"Just one word, I think," Neville said, "The word, 'Empire'."

Harry frowned. All this searching and all they had to show for it was one word. His disappointment must have been obvious because his friends tried to cheer him up.

"Oh, cheer up, Harry!" Seamus said, "There's bound to be someone at Hogwarts who understands German. All we have to do is get them to translate for us!"

"Yeah!" Ron said, joining in the enthusiasm, "And once we get the message translated I bet we'll know where Dumbledore's Weapon really is, since this obviously isn't it."

Harry perked up and smiled. They were right. Things weren't so bad. They would find out the truth behind this mystery just as they'd managed to crack the mystery of the cursed door.

Then there was a knock at the door.

All five boys turned to the door, completely silent. They turned to each other, each silently asking the other what to do. Harry quickly scooped up the halves of the glass ball and enclosed them around the floating mist. Before he could find a place to hide the ball, the door opened, slowly. Riddle and Snape were standing in the doorway.

Riddle swept into the room, his bone white mask scanning about. The blank mask came to a stop on Harry. Without a word, Riddle held out his skeletal hand. Harry hesitated and Riddle reached forward and snatched the ball from his hand. He held it up to eye level. Satisfied with what he saw, he handed it back to Snape.

"What do you have to say for yourselves?" he asked, his voice like ice.

Something was caught in Harry's throat, preventing him from speaking. After a moment he realized it was his heart.

"Nothing?" Riddle hissed, "You've broken your curfew, stolen school property, and you have nothing to say for yourselves?"

"It's not school property," Harry said, finding the courage to speak.

"Excuse me?"

"It's not school property, sir," Harry repeated, more confidently this time. His friends were look at him as if he were insane.

"Tell me then, Mister Potter, who it belongs to."

"It belongs to Lord Dumbledore, sir."

Riddle made a strange sound. Harry thought it might be a chuckle. "An interesting theory, wouldn't you say so, Severus?"

"No, Headmaster, I would not," Snape said, sneering at Harry. "In fact, it is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard."

"But-"

"Silence!" Riddle hissed, pointing a long, bony finger at Harry. Harry found himself incapable of speaking, and this time it wasn't because of nerves. "Now, let us discuss the nature of your punishment," Riddle continued, speaking in a tone that could almost be described as pleasant, "I suppose you are in favor of expulsion, Severus?"

"Yes, Headmaster, Potter and his friends have already been given too many chances."

"Indeed, and yet I am reluctant. Mister Potter and his friends are good wizards. Mister Potter in particular has been excelling at the Dark Arts. I believe it would be a great disservice to Hogwarts to get rid of these students."

"But Headmaster-"

"I have decided, Severus. They will not go unpunished, however. They will be stripped of their remaining house points and given detention for the remainder of the semester. Does that sound fair? "

"Yes, sir," the five boys chorused. Anything was better than being expelled.

"Then let us take our leave, Severus."

Snape exited the room in a huff, aggravated at once again seeing Harry escape expulsion. Riddle followed after him at a slower pace. Just before exiting the room, Riddle stopped and turned to look at the boys over his shoulder.

"This is the second time I have chosen not to expel you against the council of my most trusted adviser, Mister Potter. If your actions bring you before me again, expulsion may be the least of you worries."

He then left and closed the door behind him, leaving the boys in stunned silence.

"So, that's it then?" Ron said at length.

"I suppose," Harry said. He had never before felt so let down. All year he and his friends had been working towards finding this thing and right when they were so close to solving the mystery it had been ripped away from them.

"All that work we put in," Dean said, "For nothing."

"It wasn't for nothing," Neville said, causing the other four boys to look to him, "I mean, we had fun, didn't we? We had an adventure, and now we've got another adventure to look forward to: Finding out what 'Dumbledore's Weapon' really is."

Neville was sincerely smiling at his four friends, and Harry found the smile infectious. Neville was right, they'd had fun, and just because Riddle had taken The Weapon didn't mean their adventure was over. Soon the other boys were smiling too and they spent the rest of the night reminiscing over the adventure they had just had and proposing ways of sneaking into the Headmaster's office and retaking The Weapon.

Even the fact that the majority of their free time for the next month would be spent in detention couldn't dampen their good moods.

* * *

Despite their optimism, the boys found that finding out the truth behind Dumbledore's Weapon was impossible. They had no way of knowing what Headmaster Riddle had done with The Weapon (as they had gotten used to calling it, despite the fact that it wasn't a weapon) after he'd taken if from them. They assumed that Riddle kept the object in his office, but the only way for a student to get into Riddle's office was to get into trouble. After the last warning Riddle had given them, Harry and his friends decided that the best course of action was to try to stay out of trouble for the remainder of the school year, even if it meant giving up on Dumbledore's Weapon.

Not only that, and Harry was reluctant to admit this to his friends, but his mother had almost made good on the threat she'd made the last time he'd gotten into serious trouble and pulled him out of Hogwarts. It was only after his father pleaded for him that she decided to allow him to remain in school. Harry couldn't imagine her being any more forgiving if he got into trouble again.

So, Harry was stuck between his angry mother and a scary Headmaster, which didn't leave him or his friends with a lot of options. They spent what little free time they had – which wasn't a lot between classes, studying for final exams, and daily detentions – in the library looking for anything that resembled The Weapon. The results of their search were less than satisfying. The only reference they could find to glass balls with mist inside of them were the crystal balls used for divination. Eventually, the boys realized that if they wanted to find out the secret behind Dumbledore's Weapon their only option was to ask the man himself.

"You're going to have to do it, mate," Ron said as they sat in the library pouring over books. Harry couldn't remember anymore if they were studying for class or looking for information regarding The Weapon. All he knew was that they had been spending entirely too much time in the library.

"I can't," Harry said.

"None of us can do it," Dean said, "You're the only one who actually knows Dumbledore."

"But I can't just walk up to the Chancellor of the Empire and ask him about the secret object he hid at Hogwarts!"

"Then send him a letter," Seamus said.

Harry shook his head.

"It's either ask him or never find out what the thing was," Ron said.

Harry sighed. "Ok, I'll try. He usually spends some time at his home during the summer. At least then I can ask him personally when he isn't busy."

So, it was agreed. The boys decided to drop the subject of The Weapon until summer and focus on their studies for the rest of the school year. Not that they had anything else to focus on. Riddle had banned them from going to Quidditch games or, in Harry's case, playing in Quidditch games and they were shunned by their housemates for losing all of their house points. Without Harry on the team, the Gryffindor's still managed to beat Hufflepuff, but they lost their second meeting with Slytherin in the Cup Match. Gryffindor didn't stand a chance at winning the House Cup which also went to Slytherin, much to the delight of Headmaster Riddle and Professor Snape.

And so Harry's first year at Hogwarts came to a close. He rode the Hogwarts Express back to London with his friends and they talked about their summer plans. They made sure Harry was committed to asking Dumbledore about his 'weapon' and Harry and Ron made tentative plans to meet up over the summer.

"I'll show you my dad's factory," Ron promised.

On Platform 9 and ¾, Harry was relieved to see his parents waiting for him. His homesickness had disappeared ages ago, but still it was nice to see his mum and dad and he loved the idea of lazing around the house for an entire summer without having to worry about school work. His dreams of a completely stress free summer were shattered, however, by his mother.

"I'm happy to see you too," she said as he hugged her, "But don't think I've forgotten about all the trouble you've caused this year."

With that subtle threat hanging over his head, Harry bid one last farewell to his friends and walked with his parents to the parking lot. It was just as he was climbing into the back of his dad's car that he caught sight of Hermione Granger across the parking lot. He hadn't talked to her since the day she had gotten out of the hospital wing, just as she'd wished. She was being shepherded onto a run-down bus with other muggles of various ages. Wherever she was going he couldn't imagine it was anywhere good.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Lily asked, having seen Harry looking out the back window of the car.

"Nothing, mum," Harry said, righting himself in his seat and putting Hermione out of his mind. "Nothing."

* * *

Epilogue

"I take it the information in the prophecy pleased you, Headmaster?"

"Indeed, it did, Severus," Headmaster Riddle said, placing the glass ball down on his desk.

"And what did it say, if you don't mind my asking?"

"It says that the reign of those old fools is coming to an end," Riddle said, his face hidden by his mask, but his excitement evident by his tone, "The Empire will be my soon enough."


	12. Chapter 12

Book 2

Chapter 1

A Father's Pride

The familiar scent of burning bacon roused James Potter from his sleep. As the acrid smell filled his nostrils, his worst fears were realized: he had slept in and his wife had started breakfast. She was a terrible cook, but he had never had the heart to tell her. Waking up before her was the only way he or his son ever got a decent meal. He sighed as he rolled out of bed, there was nothing to be done for it now. He shuffled his way downstairs, grimacing all the way. Just as he entered the kitchen, he schooled his face into a dazzling smile.

"Morning, sweetheart, what's for breakfast?" he asked, as cheery as possible without being suspicious.

"Oh, nothing special," Lily said, busying herself around the stove. "Eggs, bacon, and some toast."

"Smells delicious," James said, inwardly cursing himself.

"Why don't you get Harry out of bed?" Lily asked.

"Oh, let him sleep awhile," James said with a wave of his hand, "It is summer, after all."

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt."

Lily kept to herself as she prepared breakfast and James mentally prepared himself to scarf down the terrible meal that was to come. After a moment, Lily set a plate down before him.

"Tuck in!"

James did so with gusto. He was well practiced at pretending to enjoy his wife's cooking. The bacon was burnt, the eggs were undercooked and the toast was soggy. The tea was decent, at least.

"How does everything taste?" Lily asked as she sat down with her own plate.

James was saved from answering as the post arrived via an owl swooping through the kitchen window and dropping it in a pile in the center of the table. At the top of the pile was a copy of The Daily Prophet.

"The Prophet?" James asked, "I thought you canceled our subscription after that wonderful article on the dangers of interbreeding with muggles."

Lily grabbed the paper and gave James a look that said she wasn't in the mood for his jokes.

"It's a rag, I know," she said, perusing the front page, "But I figured it wouldn't hurt to keep up with the latest of the Empire's propaganda. Just make sure Harry doesn't read it."

James nodded, swallowing a piece of bacon that was practically ash and managing not to grimace. "Any particularly interesting bits of propaganda this morning?"

"Here's one," Lily said, frowning, "Our beloved Minister is proposing harsher restrictions on the activities of werewolves. Under the proposed law, werewolves would no longer be able to hold positions in the Ministry or at Hogwarts. There would also be restrictions on where they could live. She's calling it 'Lupin's Law'."

James sighed and ran a hand through his already messy hair. It was funny, in its own twisted way. Remus had spent the majority of his career fighting for the most basic rights for werewolves and now his name would be used to persecute them further.

"He hasn't tried to contact you, has he?" Lily asked, reading her husband's expression.

James shook his head. "I wish he would. Just an owl to let me know he's okay. I'm worried about him. I know Harry is too."

"And so am I," Lily said, reaching across the table to give her husband's hand a reassuring squeeze, "But you know Remus can handle himself. Wherever he is, you know he's safe."

"I know," James said, softly, "It's just not fair, you know? First Sirius, now Remus. Peter is all I have left, and it seems like I see him less and less as the years go by."

Lily swallowed hard. "I wish I had never convinced Remus to take the job at Hogwarts."

James almost rolled his eyes. He knew where this was going. "Lily, don't-"

"I know, James! But I was the one who convinced him to take the job. Practically begged him. Just like I was the one who asked Sirius to sneak my relatives out of the country."

"No one blames you for that," James said, insistent, "I certainly don't, and I know Remus and Sirius don't."

Lily sniffled. Her eyes had begun to water. "I know, I know, but that's never going to stop me from blaming myself."

"I know," James said, grinning slightly, "That's where our son gets it from. You know he blames himself for what happened to that poor girl? The one who was with him the night Remus..."

He trailed off, unable to bring himself to say it.

"Does he?" Lily asked, looking putout that there was something bothering her son that she didn't know about.

James nodded. "I tried telling him it wasn't his fault, but he's stubborn to a fault, just like you. I'm afraid he might have inherited your tendency to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders."

"I consider that a good trait to have," Lily said.

James pondered a moment, choosing his words carefully. "It's good for the world, bad for you. Bad for Harry too."

Lily made a sound, a humorless chuckle, and returned to her paper. It was only a matter of seconds before she was shaking her head in disbelief.

"What is it now?" James asked. He couldn't imagine anything worse than 'Lupin's Law'.

"Headmaster Riddle is petitioning the Board of Governors to allow muggle-born students to stay in the castle over the winter and summer holidays."

"That sounds suspiciously out of character."

"Exactly," Lily spat, "I've never known that man to do a damn thing to help muggle-borns." Disgust was written across her face. "If he wants the muggle-born students to stay in the castle, it's probably because he wants to lock them in the dungeons and torture them."

"I doubt it," James said, grabbing the paper away from his wife and reading the article, "Tom Riddle may be a sadistic, muggle hating maniac, but he's no fool. He knows he'd never get away with torturing a whole school's worth of muggle-born students."

"I was exaggerating."

"I know."

James continued to scan the article. Riddle was saying all the right things. He cited his experience growing up in a muggle orphanage, saying that no wizard should ever have to suffer the indignity of living with muggles, even muggle-borns. If he wasn't sure that Riddle had an ulterior motive, James would have said it wasn't a half bad idea. Muggles lived terrible lives, a sad fact, and to send muggle-born students back to that life after spending a year living in splendor at Hogwarts seemed like torture.

"Looks like he's already got the Minister's support," James said as he reached the end of the article, "So the Board of Governors will probably give him what he wants."

"This is serious, James," Lily said, "I know I said I was exaggerating before, but those children could be in real danger."

Before James could try to placate his wife, his son stumbled into the kitchen rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

"What's wrong, mum?"

"Nothing, sweetheart," Lily said, beaming, "Come eat your breakfast."

A few waves of her wand and Harry had a plate at the table loaded with food. The boy sat and ate, James had schooled him in the ways of pretending to enjoy his mother's cooking after he'd come home spoiled off the fine dining of Hogwarts.

"The post has come," father said to his son, hiding the newspaper under the table. He grabbed the mail pile and went through it. He and Lily had been too preoccupied with the Daily Prophet to bother with the rest of the mail. As James inspected it, he found a letter addressed to Harry. "Look what we have here! A letter for Harry!"

"What's that?" Harry asked around a mouthful of food. He was still only half-awake.

"If I'm not mistaken, these would be your grades!"

That woke Harry up and drew the attention of Lily as well.

"Well, don't waste any time," she said, excited, "Open them up!"

James took the time to make a big show of drawing his wand and slowly opening the envelope with a charm, leaving Harry waiting on the edge of his seat, his breakfast ignored. With a flourish, James pulled a piece of parchment out of the envelope and read it carefully. His face turned deadly serious as he read over the parchment. When he was done, he folded it and placed it on the table.

"I'm afraid it's bad news," he said, locking eyes with his wife. Harry's face fell. "It appears our son is... a good student!"

James threw his face into his hands, as if the very idea was unbearable. Harry, laughing, snatched the piece of parchment and read it, his smile growing wider and wider.

"How did you do?" Lily asked with a smile to match her son's.

"High marks in everything," Harry said, barely able to contain his exuberance, "Especially Dark Arts class!"

Lily's smile faltered a bit when she heard that and James caught sight of it. He'd have to talk to her about it later.

"I'm proud of you, son," he said, patting Harry on the shoulder.

"Me too," Lily said with a warm smile, "I'm glad you didn't inherit your father's laziness. I wish I could say the same about his penchant for rule breaking."

"Hey, I was Head Boy!"

"Only after I made you to get your act together!"

James had no argument against the truth, so he turned to Harry with a wide smile. "Such good news deserves a reward!"

Harry's eyes lit up. "A new broom?"

James frowned. "You've already got the top of the line."

"The 2001 is coming out soon." Harry's eyes were so hopeful that James almost caved. Luckily, Lily provided a voice of reason.

"You don't need a new broom," she said, "Besides, we already have an agreement. If your grades are good enough you can spend the week at your friend Ron's house."

Harry's expression made it obvious he'd forgotten about that deal. "So, can I?" he asked excitedly.

"Of course you can."

Harry would have shouted if he wasn't afraid of his mother reprimanding him for it.

"May I be excused so I can write a letter to Ron?" he asked. He barely waited for his mother to nod before rushing out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his room.

James watched him go with a smile. "He's a great kid."

"He really is," Lily agreed.

James turned to her with a questioning gaze. "So you're okay with his Dark Arts grade?"

"I-" Lily paused and considered her words before continuing, "I'm not. The Dark Arts are vile and evil and I don't want them being taught to my son."

"I know where you're coming from," James told her, almost surprised at how calm she was being. He had expected her typical fiery anger. "But there's nothing you can do. He'll learn the Dark Arts at any school in the Empire."

"And he'd hate me forever if I pulled him out of Hogwarts to home school him," Lily said, sounding defeated. She had obviously considered the idea before, "It's just – I know he has to learn the Dark Arts, I just wish he didn't have to be _good_ at it."

"He's got a good mother and a _great_ father," James said, grinning, "And because of that he'll be a great wizard. We don't have to worry about him becoming some evil dark wizard."

"I know," Lily said, not sounding very encouraged.

She continued eating her breakfast and James took that as a cue that the conversation was over so he too continued eating his breakfast, which tasted worse now that it had gotten cold. Lily casually looked through the rest of the post as she ate. She stopped as she came across a particular letter.

"There's a letter here addressed to the two of us," she said, regarding the letter with antipathy.

"That's odd," James said, sarcastic.

"It's from Mad Eye."

James stopped eating and for once he wasn't grateful for the distraction. Lily passed the letter to him and he saw that it contained a short message written in Mad Eye Moody's unmistakable scrawl.

_The Lion's Den. Midnight, _it read.

"Well, that's very rude of him," James said. He crumpled the parchment and tossed it on the stove. Lily shot an _Incendio_ charm at it and together they watched it burn to ash. "He's not even asking anymore. He's practically demanding."

"You'd think he would have gotten the message by now."

"You know Mad Eye," James said, shrugging.

That was enough to end the conversation and James went back to his breakfast, determined to force down what was left. Almost unbidden, the thought of actually going to the meeting entered his head and before he could even dismiss the thought, Lily spoke.

"You're thinking about going, aren't you?" she asked, making James wish she wasn't so good at reading his face.

"Of course not," he said, not even sure why he was bothering with lies.

"Why would you want to go?" Lily pressed, she didn't seem mad, just curious.

James sighed. "I just thought that maybe meeting him face-to-face would put an end to this once and for all."

"Or maybe he would see it as a sign that we actually are interested and he'll never leave us alone again."

"It was just a thought."

"Let's keep it that way, okay?" Lily was using her 'stern mother's gaze'. James knew he would be in trouble if he didn't obey.

"Yes, mum," he said sheepishly, averting his eyes.

Lily rolled her eyes, but she considered the subject finished. "I'm going shopping later, do you want to come?"

James shook his head. "I've got some serious work to do in the shed."

"Fine," she said, "Just don't blow up the backyard. Again."

"I'll try," James said as his wife went upstairs to get ready.

Once she was out of sight, he dumped the rest of his breakfast in the rubbish bin and made his way to the shed. As he set to work in his shed, he couldn't get the meeting with Mad Eye out of his head. He had no reason to go, and yet he felt compelled to. He wanted to do it because he imagined it would be thrilling and fun. He loved his life as a dad, but sometimes he yearned for the adventurous life he'd once lived. A secret meeting at midnight in a pub with famed revolutionary Mad Eye Moody sounded like it'd be quite an adventure.

So, James decided he would go to the meeting. As long as Lily didn't find out, he'd be okay. And really, even if she did find out, what was the worst she could do to him?

* * *

James Potter was insane. Why else would he sneak out of the bed he shared with his beautiful wife to meet a man in a pub against his own better judgment? It didn't make any sense, and yet he found himself standing outside The Lion's Den, the only pub in Godric's Hollow. It was a pleasant little place full of light and laughter. In James' opinion, it lacked the charm of The Three Broomsticks – and the bartender was certainly no Madam Rosmerta – but it was still a decent place to spend an evening. He wasn't there for fun, though. He entered the pub, darted around tables and through clouds of smoke, and approached the bar. The bartender, a portly, bald fellow whose name James didn't know, greeted him upon arrival.

"Evenin', Mister Potter, you here to meet someone?"

"I – er – yes," James said. He was sure that Mad Eye would want to keep the meeting secret, but then if that were his intention he had chosen a terrible place for a secret meeting.

"Odd lookin' bloke arrived just before you did," the bartender said, "'E's waitin' for ya in the back room."

"Thanks," James said with a nod of his head.

He navigated his way to the back of the pub and found the private room. He hesitated just a moment, making sure he was committed to going through with the meeting, then opened the door and stepped in. The room was nearly pitch black, the only light came from a candle situated on the only table in the room. The table was small and only had two chairs, one of which was occupied by Mad Eye Moody, looking just as James remembered; his face covered in a menagerie of scars, his electric blue eye whirring around in its socket.

"Potter," Mad Eye said with an inclination of his head, "You came alone."

James stepped forward and took a seat at the table. "Who else were you expecting?"

"Your wife."

James chuckled. "Lily doesn't want anything to do with you."

There was a moment of awkwardness. James was content to sit back and wait for Moody to speak.

"I need you, Potter," he said, "You and your wife."

"I'm flattered," James said, "But I'm a family man now, I can't go gallivanting about with your gang of merry men trying to save the world."

"This isn't a joke, Potter!" Moody hissed, slamming his hands on the table, "The world gets sicker every day, and members of the Order are dropping like flies. We need all the help we can get!"

"I wish I could help, Mad Eye," James said sincerely, "Really, I do, but-"

"That kid of yours is holding you back?"

"His name's Harry," James corrected, hardening his voice slightly, "And I wouldn't say he's holding me back. It's more like I have different priorities."

"Sounds more to me like you're a coward," Moody spat.

James' eyes narrowed. "Never call me a coward."

"I'll say whatever I damn well please, boy," Moody said, leaning over the table, "You're a damn coward hiding behind your family because you don't have what it takes to stand up and fight for what's right!"

James was up in an instant, knocking over his chair. His wand was in his hand and leveled at Moody's disfigured nose.

"You don't want to be doing that, boy," Moody said slowly. Six wizards in black robes stepped out of the shadows, all of them with their wands on James.

"You were expecting trouble?" James asked, eying the six wizards, trying to pierce the shadows that obscured their faces.

"No," Moody said, staring down the length of James' wand, "But I'm prepared for anything."

"Right," James scoffed, putting away his wand and retaking his seat, "Constant vigilance and all that."

Moody signaled and the six wizards melted back into the shadows.

"I suppose those are your newest recruits?" James asked, his tone a bit bitter. He hadn't come to Moody's meeting to be insulted, and though he had flown off the handle, he didn't like the fact that the old wizard had brought protection. It wasn't like he'd actually planned on cursing him.

"They're good wizards," Moody told him.

"I guess my opinion of them is tarnished, what with them having pointed their wands at me."

Moody seemed content to let James' levity wash away and continued his sales pitch, "I'm serious about what I said, Potter. We need all the help we can get. You used to know what it meant to fight for what was right. What happened?"

"You don't have kids, Moody," James said, "You don't know what it's like. It changes everything."

"Your boy means so much to you," Moody said, "But you won't fight for a better world for him? You won't fight so that he doesn't have to live in a world where people suffer needlessly?"

James laughed quietly to himself. "Harry is..." he paused and gathered his thoughts, "Harry is going to be the greatest Quidditch player the world has ever seen. He's going to be rich and famous, and if he's lucky he'll marry a good woman and have a kid or three. He'll be a huge success and I'll be endlessly proud of him. This world we live in is a terrible place, but it won't affect Harry, and I'm not going to put his life in danger by making myself an enemy of the Empire."

Moody frowned deeply. "So, that's it then? It's okay for the world to suffer as long as your boy leads a good life?" Moody shook his head, looking ashamed, "I was wrong about you, Potter, you're not a coward, you're selfish."

"You see, Moody, you really don't understand," James said. He grinned, but the look in his eyes was dead serious. "I would watch the world burn as long as it meant Harry was safe and happy."

"And you're going to let your boy go to that school and get his head filled up with lies and Dark Arts?"

"What part of watching the world burn don't you understand?" James asked. He rose from his seat and the six wizards from before stepped out of the shadows. "Harry could become the next Emperor and I would still be proud of him. As long as he's-"

"Yes, as long as he's safe and happy," Moody interrupted. He rose from his seat as well. "It's unfortunate that you've become such a fool, Potter. We really could have used you." He paused and stepped back from the table, standing at the border of the shadows with the other wizards. "Unfortunately, we can't allow you to leave with your memory intact. I am a wanted man, after all, and for all I know you could be chumming it up with Dumbledore himself."

"So, it's Obliviation for me then?"

"Afraid so."

"That's a bit dramatic, don't you think?"

Moody remained silent. He seemed to be giving James one last chance to change his mind.

"Here's the thing, Mad Eye," James said, subtly drawing his wand and holding it behind his back, "And let me make this clear, I'm not chumming it up with Dumbledore in anyway. I'm just very attached to my memories. It's the principal of the matter, really."

"Stop talking, Potter," Moody said.

"Sorry. Just trying to distract you."

Moody made the classic mistake of asking, "Distract me from what?"

James whipped his wand around and with a well-practiced flick sent the table flying across the room. Moody and the other wizards sent spells flying, splintering and destroying the table in mid-air. The candle fell to the ground and extinguished, plunging the room into darkness. Moody and the others sent stunning spells flying, but all James needed was a quick shield charm and he ducked out of the room. He sealed and fortified the door behind him, ensuring that Moody and his gang would be stuck in the room for at least a few minutes.

He hurried out of the pub as fast as possible without looking suspicious. Once he was out in the warm night air, he let out a deep breath. Taking on seven wizards, one of whom was legendary revolutionary Mad Eye Moody? He hadn't done anything that ridiculous in over ten years. He missed the thrill of action, so much so that he _almost_ wished he could go back into the pub and accept Moody's offer. In the end, though, he had meant what he'd told Moody. He had no interest in putting his family at risk playing hero.

James rearranged his robes, made sure his wand was securely placed in his pocket, and strode off towards his house. He was confident that Moody wouldn't try contacting Lily or him again. If anything, the old man would be more likely to send threats instead of invitations. For a second, James feared that he had made a huge mistake. What if Moody was so angry he sought revenge? These fears only lasted a second, as James realized Moody would never be brazen enough to attack him or his family. The overly cautious wizard had already taken a big enough risk just showing up at the pub. He was a wanted man, after all.

And, if worst came to worst, James was confident he could take the old man on, even if he brought a few cronies with him.

As James thought about it more, his mind racing due to exhilaration, he realized that Moody had never intended to offer Lily or himself a place in the Order. At least, he had never expected them to accept such an offer. He had requested – demanded – a meeting with them with the sole purpose of erasing their memories. The rest of the meeting had been a farce.

So caught up in his thought was he that James didn't notice he was walking past Dumbledore's house, or that the man himself was standing outside smoking on a pipe.

"Evening, Mister Potter," the Chancellor of the Empire called after him, startling him out of his thoughts, "Strange time for an evening stroll."

James stopped in his tracks and turned towards the Chancellor. "An even stranger time for a smoke, I'd say."

"Indeed," Dumbledore said, puffing on his pipe, "But I don't suppose that would stop you from joining me, would it?"

"I – er – I should be getting back home," James said. It was the truth, and it made for a good excuse. He really had no desire to share a smoke with Dumbledore. "I've got a wife and kid to look after, you know."

"I'm aware, and yet I'm sure they wouldn't mind," the old man's eyes twinkled in the moonlight, "They don't even know you're gone, after all."

James was struck that moment, as he looked into Dumbledore's blue eyes, that the old man could read his mind. The only other person to have that affect on him was his wife, and it was a lot less creepy when she did it. "Still, I should be getting back to them all the same," and then, feeling that excuse wouldn't cut it, he continued on to say, "I don't even smoke."

Dumbledore looked at James over the rim of his half-moon glasses. "When the Chancellor of the Empire asks you to join him for a smoke, typically you do so without a fuss."

James frowned. There was no arguing with that. He walked over to where the Chancellor stood, marveling at how the man managed to make him feel like a child. Just as he was about to voice the fact that he didn't have pipe, Dumbledore waved his wand and conjured one for him. He grabbed the thing and pretended to smoke on it. He had meant it when he'd said he didn't smoke, and he certainly wasn't about to start now. The two of them stood together in silence for awhile.

"How is Alastor doing?"

James would have choked on his pipe if were actually smoking from it. "What?"

"Let's not play games, James, I know you were meeting Alastor tonight. At the Lion's Den, correct?"

James fumbled for words. He prided himself on being a good liar, it got him out of many sticky situations, but there were two people in the world he could not lie to. One was his wife, and the other was Albus Dumbledore.

"I'm not in league with Alastor Moody," he said quickly, taking half a step away from the man.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Of course you're not. Do you really think we'd be having this discussion so civilly if I thought you were?"

James frowned. "I suppose not."

"I'm just wondering how my old friend is doing."

"He's-" James cleared his throat. He had the feeling that this conversation could turn south at any minute. "He's Mad Eye."

"Indeed," Dumbledore said, nodding thoughtfully.

There was an extended silence again, and eventually James' curiosity got the best of him and he had to break it. "How did you know about Mad Eye asking me to meet him? If you don't mind my asking."

"There's not much I don't know, James," Dumbledore said, "I presume you're wondering why I have yet to arrest him, if I know so much?"

That _was_ what James had been wondering, and yet he had a feeling he already knew the answer himself. "I was."

"Because, in the grand scheme of things, Alastor Moody is less than a nuisance," Dumbledore said, "He sneaks a few muggles out of the Empire a year, and typically suffers heavy losses in doing so. He poses no threat to myself or the Empire at large."

Even though he hadn't been a part of the Order since Harry had been born, James still felt stung by Dumbledore's scathing words. To think those years he had spent helping muggles flee the country, those years he spent thinking he'd made a difference, hadn't really made a difference at all, at least not in the eyes of the Empire.

"I'm sure Mad Eye would be ecstatic to hear that," James said, sardonic.

"Alastor serves his purpose," Dumbledore said with a small grin, "He keeps the muggles hopeful, which keeps them complacent. They are much less likely to rebel when they believe there's a chance Alastor and his Order will come to save them."

The ease with which Dumbledore talked about keeping muggles oppressed disgusted James, and he couldn't help but find himself surprised with just how forthcoming the Chancellor was being. There had to be a reason. Perhaps he was in a particularly good mood?

"Why are you telling me this?" James asked.

Dumbledore arched a white eyebrow, "We're neighbors enjoying a neighborly conversation."

"Are you this forthcoming with your other neighbors?"

"I suppose not," the old wizard said, and he didn't seem very forthcoming anymore.

They lapsed into silence again. James wished he could just return to his home, but he couldn't just walk away from the Chancellor of the Empire.

"How is Harry?" Dumbledore asked after a while.

"Don't you already know?" James asked. He had surmised that Dumbledore didn't ask questions to which he didn't already know the answer.

Dumbledore smiled. "I do. He had quite a rough year at Hogwarts, didn't he?"

"He did," James said, "But he's a tough kid. He can handle it."

"I have no doubt that he can," Dumbledore said, "He is a very special child."

"Is that why you're so interested in him?" James asked. He had blurted the question without thinking, but he wasn't sorry for asking it. It was a question that had burned in his mind for years now and if the Chancellor wanted to be so forthcoming with him, he figured he might as well ask.

"Indeed, it is," Dumbledore said, "He has a very bright future. That much has been obvious since he was a toddler. Don't you agree?"

"Of course I do," James said. It was his job as a father to think his son had a bright future, not that Harry had made that job very hard on him.

"You must be very proud of him."

"Of course I am."

There was a moment of silence before Dumbledore spoke again.

"You know, James, I never had children myself," Dumbledore said. He had a far away look in his eyes as he spoke. The old man looked very sincere, but James couldn't help but feel skeptical. "When I look at Harry, I see the son I never had. Does that upset you?"

James hesitated before speaking. "No."

Dumbledore laughed. It was a loud and hearty laugh that took James by surprise. "You're a terrible liar."

James would have taken offense to that if anyone else had said it. He still took offense to it, he just made sure not to show it.

"Are you afraid I'm going to take your son away from you?"

"No," James said, and he didn't even have to think about it. As much as Dumbledore's relationship with Harry had vexed him, he had never feared that Dumbledore would take his son away from him.

"But your wife does?"

"Yes."

He had given up on lying to the old man.

Dumbledore took a long drag from his pipe and then breathed the smoke out slowly. "I've enjoyed this chat, Mr. Potter. You may go now, if you wish."

"If you insist, sir," James said. He didn't want to wait around to be told twice, but he also didn't want to seem rude to the Chancellor.

Dumbledore nodded his acquiescence. James offered the conjured pipe to the man, but he shook his head.

"You keep it, Mister Potter," he said, "A little gift from me to you."

"Thank you, sir," James said, stuffing the pipe into his robe pocket.

He offered Dumbledore a brief bow of his head – he was unsure of what the proper protocol was in such an informal setting – before turning and walking off the old man's property. He walked towards his home without looking back, almost afraid that if he did he'd find Dumbledore following him. Once he'd gotten far enough away, he pulled the conjured pipe out of his pocket and tossed it into a conveniently located bush. Why Dumbledore had seen fit to give him the pipe when he had already told him that he didn't smoke was just one of many questions swimming through James' head.

As he approached his house, his head was still swimming. He got the feeling that Dumbledore didn't do anything without purpose, so what had been the purpose their little chat? Dumbledore had known about his meeting with Moody, he knew that James would be walking home after the meeting, so he had obviously chosen to wait outside his house smoking a pipe with the intent of speaking to James. As James went over it in his head, he couldn't think of a single reason for the Chancellor to go through so much trouble.

As he entered his house – as quietly as possible – he pushed thoughts of Dumbledore out of his head. Whatever Dumbledore's reason had been would have to stay his own. The machinations of such a powerful man were beyond James Potter and after the strange night he'd had he was willing to let it go and crawl into bed with his wife.

With his mind clear of Mad Eye Moody and Albus Dumbledore, James snuck up the stairs to his bedroom. Unfortunately, all of his stealthy efforts were for nothing as he opened the door to his bedroom and found his wife sitting up in bed with a lamp lit on the nightstand. She didn't look happy.

"So," she began with a bitter twist to her lips, "How is Mad Eye doing?"


End file.
